


Exile's Return

by VillainousShakespeare



Series: Loki and Kela's Continuing Adventures [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Dream Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Oral Sex, POV Loki (Marvel), Public Hand Jobs, Romance, Sex, Sibling Rivalry, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-06-23 17:18:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 50,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15611151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillainousShakespeare/pseuds/VillainousShakespeare
Summary: Banished from Asgard for his various crimes, Loki seeks to use the rescue and return of Thor's betrothed (ofc) to secure his release from exile. But he is the God of Mischief, and when the lady in question proves to be smart, caring, and lovely he can't resist trying to slowly turn her affection away from the prince she is promised to marry and claim her for himself.Takes place in AU after Avengers 1 where Loki is banished rather than imprissoned and Frigga is alive.





	1. A Plan Takes Form

Kela was many things. She was stubborn, competitive, creative, empathetic, and curious. Training had been provided to her in languages, music, politics, literature, and economics. She had the mind of a scholar and the soul of an artist. Since she had grown into herself, Kela had been told often that she was lovely. She tended to think her looks tended more towards “cute”, but tried not to focus too much on her appearance. In short, Kela was, she knew, bringing many skills and attributes to her betrothal. None of these skills, unfortunately, was fighting on horseback. Considering she was contracted to marry one of the greatest warriors in any world with the command of not just armies but the best trained elite body guards in history, she did not think that she should have needed to worry about this.

  
And yet, here she was. Sitting atop a horse in the midst of chaos, expending all of her energy on simply staying in the saddle while around her the honor guard hand-picked to escort her to the capital city of Asgard battled desperately with the brigands who had ambushed them. It did not look, to her untrained eye, to be going well.

Perhaps should have listened to her mother when she urged Kela to travel by the Bifrost, but Kela wanted to see, to experience firsthand some of the realm that she would be tasked with co-rule of some day. She had spent so much time locked away in her studies, pouring all of her energy into learning to be the perfect Queen Consort, that she just wanted a week to breath in the air before a different set of walls shut her up again. She would be perfectly safe, she argued, surrounded by a half score of fierce warriors traveling through a realm at peace. But now only three of her ten guards were left fighting, and at least three times that many attackers were closing in to finish them off.

When Kela’s horse reared and pawed the air she decided that it was more of a liability to stay in the saddle. Hitching up her skirt she leapt to the ground and put her back to the handsome beast. Reaching into her valise she pulled out a slim blade that her brother had pressed into her hand the night before she departed. She remembered laughing at him as she promised to carry it, commenting that she was more likely to slice herself with it than be able to use it in her own defense. It did not seem so humorous now. The leader of the outlaws was approaching her, a dangerous leer on his face.

“Now there, missy,” he sneered, “don’t get any ideas. Come with us easily and you won’t get hurt. Much.”

The “much” decided her. Stubborn and competitive. Two of her defining traits. As he grabbed her arm she twisted and slashed with the blade at him wildly. To her great surprise she felt it slash his face saw a red line of blood appear on his face. A wide grin of satisfaction spread across her face.

“Bitch!” her attacker hissed. He reversed his sword and slammed the pommel into her skull. And the world went black.

 

*******

 

Loki sat his horse with the ease of centuries of practice, almost one with the beast, and for the first time in ten years breathed in the air of his homeland. There was something about Asgard that simply felt purer, richer, than anywhere else in the universe. He had missed it in his exile more than he realized. It was one of the reasons why he was here. Why he been circling, closer and closer, for the last three years, to the realm ruled by his father, testing the borders, waiting for the Heimdall’s eyes to clap on him and for the All Father to smite him back again. He was homesick, he was lonely, and he was bored. Finally this morning he had taken the final step and crossed back over into the land of his upbringing, if not his birth. The land that he had once ruled. The land that he would rule again. It felt good.

So when he had turned a small bend in the path and encountered three rough looking fighting men, swords drawn and bright smiles at the fates that seemed to have blessed them for a second time this day with rich prey, he was uncharacteristically merciful.

“Trust me, you don’t want to do this friends,” he spoke in a mild voice, eyes flicking over the rusted armor and heavy blades. “Lay down your swords and walk away while I am still inclined to let you live.”

“Oh, listen to his lordship,” one of the men snickered. “Why don’t you climb down off of that horse and turn him over, along with your purse, and maybe we’ll leave you your fancy cloths instead of sending you off naked.”

Well, he had tried. With an almost negligent gesture, Loki summoned a knife and sent it flying into the speakers jugular. The other two men ran at him, but both died before they reached him. He must have been out of practice, though, because one of them managed to cry out before the blade silenced him forever. Loki heard a commotion from the left of the path, in what must be their camp and three more men rushed out of the woods. He sighed and dismounted from his horse, deciding he wanted to tactile thrill of getting in closer to his prey. Really he needn’t have bothered. It was all over before it had time to even become fun for him. Why was everything so boring lately? Where was the challenge?

He supposed he might as well take a look at their camp, see if there was anything worth taking. After securing his mount with Seidr, he walked through the trees and saw a small collection of tents surrounding a central cook fire. Obviously he had not been their first ambush of the morning – the bodies of soldiers in the army of Asgard lay dragged to one side of the tents. What, he asked himself, had the realm fallen to that such riffraff had been able to beat trained warriors? The very thought brought a sneer to his lips.

“You’re right in your contempt, my lord” rasped a voice.

Turning, Loki saw that one of the soldiers was not quite as dead as his fellows. He leaned against a tree, arms tied behind him, a nasty looking gash in his side.

“It’s pathetic,” Loki sneered.

“That it is, sure enough. Knew it must be a mistake when I saw who was chosen for this duty. Old men and green boys and drunkards. Should have been called a dishonor guard. Only way I would have been selected for it myself. The princess deserved better.”

“Princess?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow. “Does Odin have another illegitimate child I have not yet heard of?” In truth, it wouldn’t surprise him. Nothing about his supposed father or family would surprise him anymore. He would grieve for his mother though. It would give him one more reason to kill Odin.

“No, m’lord. Least ways, not that I know of. I meant the Princess to be. Prince Thor’s intended.”

“Jane Foster is here?” Loki was stunned.

“No, not the little Migardian girl. Haven’t you heard? She broke the prince’s heart. Left him for a mortal from her own world. No, this is proper lady, born and bread to be a queen. Father’s a warden of the Eastern Fjord. She’s a lovely lass and no doubt about it. Deserved better than us. Please sir take care of her. I’d do it myself, but I don’t have much time left.” He glanced down to the blood pooling from his wounded side.

“So Thor’s little mortal jilted him,” Loki savored the idea. “And now Odin has him dancing to his tune. What an obedient little puppy he is. So, where is this paragon my brother has sealed his fate to?”

“In there,” the man pointed with his chin to the largest of the tents. “They were going to ransom her back to him. Good thing you got here when you did though,” he added grimly.

“And why is that?” Loki asked. “Surely the mighty Odinson has enough gold to ransom his bride.”

“They didn’t intend to return her unspoiled. The leader there, I heard him say that they could have their fun with her once let letter had been sent to the capital. They was arguing over who had to send it, as he would be the last to get his turn with the girl.”

“Thor would hardly pay for used goods. They should be glad I killed them quickly. If they had tried to return a besmirched bride to him their deaths would have been far slower and much less pleasant. In the tent you say? Well, I think I shall go have a look at the future Queen of Asgard.”

She was lying unconscious on the ground inside the tent, arms stretched above her head and wrists bound and tied to a stake pounded into the earth. Her wavy, honey colored hair formed a halo around a face comprised of a small, straight, nose and rosebud lips, giving her a rather angelic look. The bonds tying her forced an arch to her back, and with quickening of his pulse Loki understood why the men had been willing to risk his brother’s wrath to bespoil her.

Unable to resist himself, Loki knelt down beside her. Her figure was a delectable hour glass. Ripe milky white breasts pushed upward by her corset threatened to spill out of the top of her cleavage, and where her skirt had hiked up underneath her he could see long, shapely legs. Reaching down, he allowed one of his hands to trail slowly up her calf and over her knee, and she moaned slightly and pulled against the ropes in her sleep.

A wave of desire swept over him, followed by stabbing pang of jealousy. This lush creature, all soft curves and delicate features, was intended for his brother. Yet another in a long line of undeserved rewards lavished on the boorish idiot. For a moment Loki thought about enacting the bandit’s plan himself. He could take her, here and now. He could feel his arousal pressing against the leather of his pants as his fingers lightly stroked her inner thigh. It had been too long since he had had a woman, and here she was, all tied up like a present for him. How easy to have her and send her to Thor, ruined, to shame him. It was sorely tempting.

Just as he had half made up his mind to have her, a second thought occurred to Loki. Taking the girl now, enjoyable as it would be, would really serve no purpose aside from momentary gratification. Thor, or more likely Frigga, would simply compensate the girl and her family for her injuries and find another luscious woman for him to marry. But if he were to return her, alive and unharmed, would he not be the savior of this little story? Could he not parlay this lovely damsel into a reprieve? A reversal of his exile? Who better than the betrothed of the Crown Prince to advocate for him. He would just have to gain her trust. And then, when he was reinstated to his former position as Prince of Asgard, then he could take her and satisfy his lust, if he still wanted her.

Slowly a grin spread wide across his face. For the first time in years he didn’t feel bored with his life. He had a plan. A purpose. And it was going to be oh so fun.


	2. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kela wakes from her ordeal to find her handsome rescuer staring down at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first ever fanfic... I'm usually a playwright, but this story was buzzing around in my head and needed a place to come out. Thanks for the feedback, sharing a work with other people before it is done and polished a million times is a new, scary experience for me!

As Kela slowly surfaced from the hazy fog, for a moment she wished the blackness would take her back again. Everything hurt, from her chafed wrists where the ropes had cut into her skin to the intense pounding in her head. Slowly, gingerly, not daring to open her eyes, she reached up to probe the large bump just above her hairline. Then the realization set in – she had reached up! Dimly she remembered waking as she was thrown to the ground inside the tent and struggling weakly as her arms had been secured over her head before she passed out again from the pain to her temple. But her hands were unbound now, and surface below her felt surprisingly soft. Bracing herself for the pain, she opened her eyes, blinking as the dim light assaulted them.

She was dead. That must be it. They had killed her and she had arrived in Valhalla. It was the obvious explanation for the beautiful face gazing down at her. Pale white skin beneath jet black hair, high cheekbones, and the most stunning pair of blue green eyes she had ever seen. Either she was dead or hallucinating, he was too perfect to be real. As she blinked into those eyes the corner of his mouth lifted slightly in a half smirk.

“Blue,” he said in a voice like melted chocolate. “I was right.”

“I’m sorry?” she asked, all confusion, while another wave of pain washed over her as she tried to sit up.

“Your eyes. I thought they must be blue. No, don’t try to get up. Take your time.” 

The vision hovering over her placed a strong hand on her shoulder and pressed her back onto the bed. A bed. She was lying on a bed. She tore her eyes away from the angelic looking face to take in her surroundings  – dresser, small table, single chair that the angel was sitting on pulled up next to the small bed.

“We’re in The Griffin,” he told her, seeming to sense her confusion. “A small inn not far from where I found you. I’m afraid you took quite a nasty blow to the head. Do you remember what happened?”

“They were waiting for us. Those men,” she answered groggily. “They knew we were coming. I think they killed all of my guards. I tried to fight him off, but he hit me. I did make him bleed though.”

“Good for you,” the man smiled.

“They wanted me for ransom I think.”

“That’s not all they wanted you for.”

“What do you mean?” her stomach sank.

“One of your guards was still alive when I found you. They did indeed intend to ransom you, but not before they… took certain liberties with your person.”

Kela swallowed a hard lump in her throat and closed her eyes, a wave of panic threatening to overtake her.

“Rest easy, little one. No one will hurt you now. They have been dealt with.” The finality of his tone left little doubt in her mind what he meant, but her eyes asked the question nonetheless. “The men who attacked you set upon me as well. It did not go well for them.”

“There were at least nine of them,” she breathed, eyes wide. He merely shrugged one shoulder negligently.

“Something like that. I found one of your soldiers bleeding out by tree. He told me of your predicament. I brought you here to recover. It seemed to offer minimally more comfort than the ground of the tent.”

“So I have you to thank for my freedom. Sir, I cannot thank you enough for rescuing me. You are truly my hero.” 

Carefully this time, Kela pulled herself into a sitting position and looked more fully at her rescuer as he slouched in the chair next to her. He was obviously tall, she could tell that at a glance. Well-muscled but slim, his long, leather encased legs stretched out in front of him. Elegant hands betrayed a noble upbringing, though his very bearing proclaimed that to anyone with eyes. He was perfect.

Or not quite so, for as her eyes continued to appraise him, Kela noticed a gash in his left side, starting just above his hip and running down to the top of his thigh. Dark black stained the leather around it.

“You’re hurt!”

“Just a scratch,” her hero downplayed the injury. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you need to have that tended to!”

“I’m afraid we are a bit out in the hinterlands here, my lady. No doctor for miles.”

“I have a small med kit in my bag,” Kela offered. “I may not be much good at causing injuries, other than occasionally to myself, but I know how to patch the basic ones. Give me one moment.”

Steadying herself with the bed post Kela rose and staggered across the room to where she had seen her travel bag lying by the dresser. After a moment of rummaging she returned with bandages, gauze, and disinfectant.

“Well,” she huffed as he didn’t move. “Let’s see how bad it is.”

Slowly, eyes fixed on hers, her took off his shirt and pulled the waist of his leathers down on one side. Kela took a deep, settling breath. Suddenly the room seemed impossibly small, and alarmingly short of oxygen as he crossed over and sat on the bed next to her, bare from the waist up. Kela changed her mind again. The gash in his side didn’t make him any less perfect. It simply served to set off the perfection of the rest of him, all hard muscle and distracting lines that drew the eye farther down…

Shaking herself, Kela tried to reclaim a businesslike manner as she took the gauze and gently cleaned his wound, ignoring the shock of electricity that surged through her arm as she touched him, hoping the tremor in her hands would be ascribed to her recent injury.

“By the way,” she asked shyly she looked up through her lashes at him, “I’m Kela. What’s your name?”

 

***

 

He had known her eyes would be blue, but Loki had not expected them to contain such depth and intelligence. Although judging by the contents of her travel bag - a surprising variety of well read books, sketch book and pencils, a small lute, and a med kit in addition to a comparatively limited amount of clothes and beauty supplies for a nobly bred young lady, perhaps he should not have been. Her bag had been easy enough to locate  - the only thing besides her in the tent that looked to be of any value - and he had catalogued its contents carefully before disappearing it for travel with a flick of his wrist. 

Scooping the girl up in his arms he had exited the tent, barley sparing a glance for the now dead soldier, and carried her to where his horse waited to the side of the path. He gave quick thought to searching for her own mount, who must have run off in the attack, but decided against it. She was easily light enough for his horse to carry both of them, and he rather liked the idea of sharing the saddle with her. She was beyond a doubt a delectable little morsel.

The innkeeper at the Griffin had been irksome. Apparently, a leather clad man carrying an unconscious woman in his arms appearing mid-day to ask for a single room offended his dainty sensibilities. Fortunately, an implied threat and a large bag of coins had changed his mind. Loki sneered at the thought of him. If only the worm of a man knew who was deigning to grace his undeserving house, he would fall to his feet and kiss Loki’s travel stained boots. But he was not ready to reveal himself as yet. The order of exile was still in effect after all, and he had to be patient in order to give his plan time to work.

He laid the girl down on the bed and pulled off her riding boots. After a moment of hesitation, he opened her blouse to unlace her corset. He would allow himself this, he decided. The thing could not be comfortable to sleep in, and it was a small reward for his good behavior. As the laces gave way in his hands and he pulled the material aside his resolve to behave almost left him. Large, rounded breasts spilled into his hands and he groaned as let his thumbs run over her pink nipples. She gasped a little in her sleep and rolled towards him, responding unconsciously to his touch. It took a great deal of willpower to keep from lowering his mouth to her pale flesh, but he would not get very far with his plan if she were to wake to him molesting her. He pulled the corset out from under her, tossing it to the floor near her boots, and refastened her blouse. Later, he told himself. There would be a time for everything.

Having neatly settled her on the bed, Loki turned to the next step in his plan. The med kit in her bag had given him the idea. He needed to become the girl’s hero, and how much more grateful, more in his debt, would she be were he injured in the rescue of her? It did gall him to think she would have to believe that he had been inept enough to let one of those amateurs harm him, but his pride could take the hit if got him one step closer to his goal. Summoning a dagger, he debated where to place the slash. It needed to look serious enough to concern her, but not actually cause him any undue discomfort or annoyance. Someplace provocative, but not overly sensitive. Grinning he placed the tip to his hip and sliced down, letting the blood seep through his leathers. Then he disappeared the dagger, pulled the one chair over to near the bed, and sat down to wait for her to wake.

It didn’t take long. Within fifteen minutes her breathing shifted, and he could tell she was rousing. Her hand rose to prod gently at the bump on her head, and he saw the moment the realization set in that she was no longer tied to the ground. Her eyes flew open and he stared into dark blue depths.

She really was charmingly befuddled at first. Clearly hazy on where she was and what had happened. As he assured her that she was alright, that he had rid the world of the scum who had sought to use her for their own greed and lust, her big blue eyes focused on him with a look he could not quite place.

“So I have you to thank for my freedom. Sir, I cannot thank you enough for rescuing me. You are truly my hero,” it was said simply, and with undeniable sincerity. No mockery, no begrudgement, just honest gratitude shining in her face as she gazed up at him. He found himself at a very uncharacteristic loss for words.

“You're hurt!” her gasped words broke the spell. Suddenly she was moving, albeit not completely steadily, fishing out her kit from the bag he’d placed by the dresser and ordering him around like a tiny drill sergeant, and he happily obeyed.  Perhaps it was not entirely necessary for him to completely remove his shirt in order to give her access to the top of his wound, but he had bled for this, and he was going to get every bit of enjoyment from it that he could. Watching her eyes take in his form, trailing down his muscular chest to the vee at his waist was delightful. He wondered if she knew she was blushing. He hoped so. He thought of taking off his pants as well, but did’t want to scare the girl, so he just pulled down the left side, showing just enough skin to make her blush deepen another shade, and sat down next to her on the bed.

Her fingers were gentle and efficient as she cleaned his wound, skimming lightly over his flesh. It was close enough that jolts of heat were traveling directly to his core from where she touched him. He was uncertain whether the trembling in her hands was due to her recent blow to the head, or to the electric current buzzing between them. He was conceited enough to believe that it was at least partly due to the latter. She certainly seemed to have lost a little of the self confidence she had been displaying only a moment ago.

“By the way,” she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes, “I’m Kela. What’s your name? 

He could have given her his real name. She was certainly in his debt at this point, and he could honestly claim to have saved her honor if not her life. But she was looking at him so sweetly, with trust and gratitude radiating from her eyes. He did not want to see that look go away, to have it die and be replaced with fear, loathing, or hatred.  He wanted, just for now, to see what it felt like to be the hero, at least to her. And so he did what he did best.

“My name is Koli,” he lied, swapping the two letters to make it simple, as all the best lies are. “And it is my pleasure to be of service to you, Lady Kela.”

“What house are you from? You’re clearly a noble, and I’m guessing from quite a high family?” she questioned, wrapping a bandage around his narrow waist. Her arms went around him and he felt her breasts brush momentarily against his side, separated only by the thin fabric of her blouse. He saw her register the absence of her corset, and then saw her decide not to bother about it. She did sit back swiftly, though, as soon as she had finished bandaging him, putting distance between them on the bed and hugging a pillow to her body to hide her very obvious curves.

“Fairly high, yes,” he admitted, deciding provocatively to leave his shirt off, though he did do up the laces of his pants. “I’m a second son, though, so it doesn’t really matter. I grew up in the capital city.”

“Ah,” she replied, knowing from her own younger brother the unfair fate of second sons, unable to inherit. He waited for the idea he had floated to take root, and smiled to himself when she said, “Then you know the way to the capital from here?”

“I do,” he confirmed, lounging back on one arm.

“Koli,” she ventured, playing idly with the hem of her blouse, “I know that I already owe you more than could ever be repaid… but I’m afraid I’m going to ask for more.” 

He raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to go on. Truly, it was like playing an instrument at times the way he played people. 

“I need to reach the capital, and as you know my so called “honor guard” is gone… and more than ever I realize the dangers inherent on such a trip…”

He thought about staying silent, seeing how long he prolong her discomfort, but her pleading eyes drew out he gallantry.

“It would be my honor to escort you there,” he offered, right on cue. Her face lit up like the sunrise.

“Oh, thank you! I promise you will not regret it. My fiancé will reward you greatly for this service!”

“Fiancé?” he asked teasingly.

“Um… yes,” she stuttered. “That is why I am headed to the capital, you see. I am engaged to be married. To Thor, the Crown Prince of Asgard.”

He knew this was the case. Indeed, were she not Thor’s betrothed he would not be here now in this shabby inn with her. He would have woken her in the tent, seduced her, had his way with her, and been on his way. It was the fact that she was to marry his sometime brother that made his whole plan possible. But upon hearing the words come out of her mouth, the white-hot jealousy returned to Loki’s stomach.

Once again, Thor got everything. He was the crown prince, he had their fath… Odin’s… approval, the love of the common folk, the enchanted hammer. And now, where most in his position, needing to wed for the good of the realm, would find themselves betrothed to a hideous antidote, _of course_ Thor’s intended was everything a man would want in a bedmate. More than that, she was the woman who had looked up at Loki with shining eyes and called him her hero. And now she would end up in Thor’s bed. Loki clenched his jaw and fought to get his temper under control. He knew nothing of this woman, other than that she had a lovely face, luscious form, and surprisingly good taste in literature. Perhaps she was a shrew. Perhaps marriage to her would be the ultimate punishment for his erstwhile brother. Regardless, she was the means to an end for Loki, and he had to remain charming.

“Well, my felicitations, my lady. And I hope he may prove _worthy_ of so lovely a bride.” Loki stressed the adjective ever so slightly and she laughed, a musical sound.


	3. A Night at the Inn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kela and Loki get to know each other better as the slow build continues. Impure thoughts and frustration abound.

Shortly after Kela finished bandaging Loki's hip a knock at the door brought the landlord with a tray of food he had ordered upon arrival. The man took in Loki’s bare torso and Kela’s disheveled state and his sour expression deepened. Kela was blushing again, clearly realizing how it must look to him. Truly, Loki would have liked nothing better than to kill the man on the spot. It was amazing to him how often he had had to restrain himself already today from acting on his desires.

The personification of one of those desires was even now tearing into her dinner with dainty relish. She certainly didn’t act like the typical genteel maiden. There was a bit too much life in her. It roused his curiosity, among other things.

“It may be impertinent of me to ask, but I am curious. Your betrothed,” the word sounded just a bit bitter to his own ear as it came out of his mouth, “could easily have fetched you via the Bifrost. So why...”

“Why did I choose to take the long way around?”

He nodded.

“I wanted to experience the world a bit I suppose,” she sighed.

“Do I sense reluctance to unite with your intended?” He asked, feeling a warm glow begin to form in his chest.

“Not reluctance, exactly” she relied slowly, dampening the glow a bit, “but also no particular wish for haste.”

“It’s not a love match then?” He asked, and was rewarded almost instantaneously with peels of her laughter.

“Good heavens no!” She gasped when she had finally stopped laughing. “Forgive me, I don’t mean to laugh at you, but I have only met the man twice in my life, and one of those times we were practically children. No, it is a political alliance. My family is old and honored, but not particularly wealthy. My mother and the Queen are old childhood friends, and they believe that I possess certain... attributes that would be attractive in a queen.”

“Such as?” Loki asked, fairly certain that the attributes Frigga would find attractive in the girl were quite different than the ones that he was having difficulty ignoring at the moment - namely the shapely leg swinging back and forth under the table, the slight darkening of nipples he could see through her top when the light hit her just so, and the little dimple that formed when she smiled. He wanted his mouth on all of these.

“Oh, I suppose that am studied in politics and the finer points of strategy, with a good working knowledge of the customs and languages of all nine realms,” she said dismissively, as if such things were everyday accomplishments. “I know music and art from each of them as well. Some of the best stories I’ve ever read were by a playwright of Midgard, believe it or not!”

“Shakespeare or Chekhov?” He asked, and smiled to see her eyes grow big.

“Shakespeare, though I do enjoy both! Are you a scholar as well as a one-man army, my lord?”

“I dabble,” he said with a laugh and a shrug. “Are you? A scholar that is.”

“No, I wouldn’t say I'm a scholar. I’m just curious. I like to know things, the why and the how of them,” she grew more animated as she went on. “I absolutely loath feeling ignorant. I had to come to terms with the fact that I cannot DO everything - I’m afraid I’m hopelessly uncoordinated - but I still want to know how others are doing them. Puzzles and mysteries vex and delight me all at once to no end.”

He knew exactly what she meant. Secret knowledge was like cream for the cat to him. His mother was much the same way. Instinctively he knew why she would think the girl a good counterbalance to Thor’s less than subtle way of command. But at the same time she would have to be his wife as well as his queen, and Loki could think of few people less compatible with one possessed of an insatiable mind than his rather dim brother.

"You say you grew up in the capital," she asked suddenly, "did you know the royal family?"

"A bit," he answered cautiously, wary of where this could lead.

"What is he like, Prince Thor? As I said, I've only met him twice. Once when my mother brought me to the castle long ago when we were both young, and then again when he visited our keep some years back, while he was quieting things down after his brother Loki's bid for the throne."

"Indeed," he bit off. Well, that disastrous defeat was certainly not something he was anxious to discuss. Thor it was then, but he would still need to be careful to hide his contempt lest she grow suspicious. For some reason the rest of the world all seemed to adore the great oaf. "What is Thor like? Large, brave, noble. The whole world knows how he is."

"And the rest of the family? I know all about the All Father, of course, but the others? Come, if I am wed to him the rest will be my family as well."

"Queen Frigga is lovely," here at least was someone he could praise unequivocally. "Kind, gentle but fierce, wise, talented. The only one ever able to influence Odin in any measurable way."

"She sounds terrifying! How could any man with her for a mother ever be satisfied with me for a wife? And Prince Loki?"

"Ah, the dark prince," he liked the way his named sounded on her lips. "He was... difficult. Clever, mischievous, mercurial. He never really fit in with the rest of them, I believe."

"I met him once too, you know," she said quietly, looking out the window. Loki's head shot up. Surly he would remember meeting her? But she said they had been young. The heavens knew he had changed in the last century, she showed no sign of recognizing him after all; no doubt she must have changed as well.

"When you came to the castle?" he asked, trying to place it.

"Yes. As I said, I was young and quite shy at the time, and only there for a week. I didn't see much of Thor, he was always out in the practice yards or riding across the country side. But Loki would come into the library, which was my sanctuary, from time to time. I think he had just had a growth spurt, for he was all tall legs, skinny and pale with his short dark hair and supercilious manner. He never saw me, of course. I was far too scared to speak up back then and I hid in the stacks of books. But he fascinated me for some reason. I used to dream of him sometimes, in the years that followed."

Loki swallowed hard. Had she really just said that? He could picture himself at that age, full of self-doubt and loathing, constantly being measured against Thor and found wanting. Trying to act proud and aloof to cover the hurt he felt at his perceived lack. And she had seen him, noticed him,  _dreamed_ about him. His throat felt dry. She seemed to just be realizing she had spoken the last words aloud, and a red tinge of embarrassment flushed her face.

"Well," she laughed, clearly trying to change the subject, "that's not important now. It's not as though I will be running into Prince Loki at the palace. You know, I think it's time for me to sleep. It has, after all, been quite a day. Would you mind turning round so I can change?"

"Of course," he responded and turned his back to her. "I'm afraid this was the only room available," he lied easily to her, listening to the sounds of her disrobing, trying to ignore the tightening feeling in his groin. "Will it disturb you if I sleep in the chair?"

"You can't!" she protested.

"Very well, I will go down to the common room if you like."

"No," she corrected him, "I mean you can't sleep in the chair, you've been hurt. Saving me, no less! I will take the chair. You can turn round now."

He turned to see her in a thin white nightgown that fell to just past her knee. It was sweet and demure and made him want to throw her down on the bed and corrupt her in every way imaginable.

"My lady, nothing on this planet would induce me to let you sleep in the chair. Not to mention that you have been hurt yourself. And suffered far greater trauma than I this day."

"Well then," she chewed on her lower lip, obviously debating inwardly with herself, "I suppose we could just share the bed."

His eyebrows shot up. It was where he had planned on steering matters all along, of course, but he had thought it would take much longer to carefully maneuver her to that point.

"We are, after all, in the middle of nowhere," she reasoned logically. "There is no one here to see. And even if there were, my reputation would be in tatters from having you in my room regardless of where you slept. Lord knows the landlord already thinks you have thoroughly compromised me," she added with a giggle.

"If you are sure."

"As I said, you are injured after all," she nodded, getting into the bed and moving to one side to make room for him. "It's not as though you would be ravishing me in any case."

If she only knew, he thought, climbing in after her and shutting off the light. She was not quite touching him, but he could smell her hair on the pillow next to him. It was intoxicating.

"Koli," she asked softly after a moment, and he had to remind himself that was the name he had given her. "Do you think I'll be able to please him? The prince?" 

Unbidden the image filled his mind of her lying on his large bed in the palace, naked, wet, and willing, eager to please him with her hands, her mouth, her body. He felt himself become almost painfully hard under the blanket. The next moment he realized that the prince she was speaking of was not him but Thor, and that lust turned to a violent urge to murder his brother before he could so much as look on her.

"Do you think Thor will like me?" she asked, quiet voice betraying her uncertainty.

He drew a deep breath.

"If he doesn't, he's a fool," which, he thought, was not really an answer.

Kela sighed and closed her eyes. She had dreamed of him, she said. Gently, Loki reached out with the smallest touch of seidr as he ran a hand over her hair. 

"Go to sleep, princess," he said aloud. "Dream of me," he added silently.

***

 

Kela felt the early morning sunlight falling on her as she slowly woke up. She was not normally one for mornings, but this morning she had a surprising feeling of well being. She had had the most wonderful dream, though the details of it escaped her at the moment, and it had left her feeling warm all over.

She turned her head to snuggle deeper into the pillow, and froze as she realized that her head was not resting on feathers but a firm, muscular, and very bare chest. Kela was suddenly, shockingly, awake as the events of the previous day and the knowledge of where she was crashed into her brain. She was lying on the small bed in the inn, Koli's strong arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her fast against his body, his lips resting in her hair. Her right leg seemed to have wrapped wantonly around him and tangled with his own long limbs beneath the covers, nightgown hitched up high on her thighs. She could feel every muscle through his leather pants, and something else that was obviously, distractingly, not muscle.

She should be horrified. She should be mortified. She should  _really_ be moving away from him. She was instead, to her everlasting shame, tremendously aroused.

It was not as though she had never been with a man. She was a grown woman after all. Her experiences had been... nice. Her heart had remained decidedly unmoved. That had all been before her betrothal, of course. She was taken now. Spoken for. As good as married, and to the Crown Prince of the realm! She should not be waking up in a strange man's arms, desire pooling inside of her, fighting the urge to roll not away from him but further onto him, to straddle the hard bulge she could feel beneath her leg and grind into it. To peal back his leathers and thank him properly for her rescue.

That was it, she decided! It was a delayed reaction to the events of yesterday. To him saving her. She was feeling grateful and vulnerable, and the nearness of him had translated it into desire. He was, after all, undeniably attractive. What woman wouldn't have the same reaction?

The arms around her tightened and he murmured something into her hair. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she felt him kiss the top of her head. A moment later he seemed to come to his senses and his head rose from her hair. She looked up into his eyes with what she was sure was a scarlet face, and saw him chuckle silently. With languishing slowness he loosened his arms around her and untangled his legs from hers, allowing her to rise from his body.

"Good morning, princess," he smiled at her. "Pleasant dreams?"


	4. The Road to the Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smut begins a bit, though our heroine thinks it is all a dream. Dubious consent element, as she is asleep, but would she really say no if she was awake?

The next week was one of the most pleasant that Kela could remember. Mounted before Koli on his large stallion, she would listen to him weave stories of the different lands they passed through. She knew many of them, of course, but his voice was so evocative and his wit so sharp that she often felt like she was hearing them for the first time. 

She had studied the geography of course, and she was quite aware that he was taking them on a most circuitous route, skipping major towns and often doubling back needlessly, but she was secretly grateful for the delay and held her tounge.

As evening fell they would check into an inn. That first morning she had made a point, much to his evident amusement, of referring to him as her husband before the disapproving innkeeper, and from then on that was the story they adopted. She was traveling alone with him, best not to raise eyebrows.

The evenings were her favorite time, as he would regale her with wicked and, she was sure, wickedly accurate impressions of the people she would meet at court. They would take turns reading aloud, either taking parts in a Midgardian play or reciting Elvish poetry, and it would turn her insides liquid listening to his low voice speak the verse. Sometimes she would play for a bit on her lute, but she resisted all his efforts to get her to sing.

When it was time for sleep he would slip out of his shirt and turn while she changed, and then they would slide into bed. Every night she swore to herself that she would stay to her own side, not invade his space. But every morning she woke nestled on his chest, wound about him shamelessly, held tightly in his arms.

She had begun dreaming about the dark prince again, but this time the dreams were different. For one thing, though she knew beyond a doubt that Prince Loki was the man in her dreams, she could never seem to remember clearly when she woke what he had looked like. She only knew that he no longer looked quite like the boy from her past. The dreams also no longer consisted of stolen glances and chaste kisses. They were luridly erotic. He would burst into the great hall of the palace as her marriage to Thor was being celebrated, snatch her from the groom’s side, and devour her before the entire court. In one particularly intense version, he had pulled her down to straddle him on the very throne and she had ridden him hard, moaning his name as marked her breasts and neck with his teeth, the assembled gentry of Asgard watching their wild coupling in shock. 

She had been so wet when she woke from that particular dream that she had not been able to look at Koli all morning. She was sure he must have felt her desire, how could he not? But at least he was too much of a gentleman to mention it.

Perhaps his silence was also due to the state he himself was given to waking up in. She knew from things her brothers had let slip over the years that men often greeted the day hard and ready, but knowing was distinctly different from feeling the proof pressed against her inner thigh. Still, she didn’t flatter herself that she was the real cause. No doubt any female form in his bed would have done the same. She ignored it as best she could, which was to say it consumed her thoughts and drove her to distraction. It was good that their journey would be coming to an unavoidable end soon. She could not afford to get too attached to him. She was marrying the Prince, and he would go back to making a name for himself in one of the various ways second sons were forced to seek out.

 

***

Almost a week had passed since Loki had freed Kela from her captors, and he was having the time of his life. He greatly enjoyed regaling her with stories as they rode through the backwoods of Asgard. The more outlandish and scandalous the stories were, the better she liked them, and he found himself embellishing them as they went along. She would laugh delightedly and try to pick apart the truth from his ridiculous fiction, but Loki was not the God of Lies for nothing, and even someone as clever and observant as she could not always tell where the real truth was hidden.

She was remarkably clever. Her eyes took in almost everything, and when they discussed the day over dinner her reflections were always very perceptive and often sly dissections of the people they had come across. She had a tremendous empathy for those down on their luck, but absolutely no patience for pretention or snobbery. He would humor her after their meal by reading with her, but always mischievously chose the most salacious poems and ardent scenes. He had realized the first day that she was rather taken with his voice, and that was all the encouragement he needed to put it to use. 

Remarkably, the one blind spot in her keen sense observation was her perception of herself. She seemed to have no idea at all the effect she had on men in general, much less him specifically. It had happened on more than one occasion over the past few days that a melting smile or beseeching look from her had won over a reluctant host who was not quite ready to believe that an obviously noble woman would be gallivanting through the middle of nowhere with her slightly wild looking "husband". They clearly gave every appearance of being on a clandestine tryst, and Loki knew that if she had not cast her big blue eyes in entreaty he would have needed to pay out a great deal more money and caused a bit of pain to secure their lodgings anywhere halfway respectable.

After the first night, despite waking up so wonderfully entangled, there had been no talk of one of them sleeping on a chair. She would hop into bed and press herself as far to one side as possible, leaving the larger share to him. Once she fell asleep he would reach out, ever so slightly, and plant the suggestion of a dream in her brain. He never did more than a touch, simply directing her dream in his direction, but it seemed that the dreams had been intensifying as the nights progressed.

He lay there now, fighting to fall asleep, listening to the small noises she made in her sleep. She turned onto her side in her slumber and, inevitably, her curly head found its way onto his chest. A contented murmur sighed from her. She stretched her back, arching into his side with her bosom, and gave a short, staccato moan. His hand buried itself in her hair. For the love of Valhalla, between having her up before him on his horse and these nights spent with her twined around him, he felt as though he existed in a constant state of intense arousal. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to resist the urge to sink himself into her.

As if hearing his unspoken thoughts, Kela reached up with one delicate hand and traced her fingers from the side of his neck, all the way down his chest, to his thigh.

" _Loki_ ," she moaned, on an expelled breath, pressing her hips into him, one leg snaking over his waist.

His eyes widened and his resistance snapped. Feathering the fingers on his left hand over her forehead to sorcerously encourage her to stay asleep, his right slid down her body to her supple thigh. She groaned appreciatively in her sleep as he caressed upwards, pushing her nightgown to her waist. As he slid his fingers over the satiny fabric of her panties, he drew in a sharp breath through his teeth. She was wonderfully, drippingly wet, her arousal soaking the soft material. He brushed gently over them and her breath started to catch. Slowly, savoring the moment, he pushed the satin aside and touched her lips.

"Yes," she moaned, pressing into his touch. "Loki, _please_."

That was all the encouragement he needed. Loki dipped his finger inside her, reveling in how tight and hot she was. Spurred on by her soft cries he pumped in and out of her, his thumb circling over her clit as he worked her into a state of desperate want. Her hips bucked against his hand as he added another finger. She was breathing heavily now, whining and panting. He knew it wouldn't be long until he had her coming on his hand. It took every ounce of will power he possessed to pull his fingers out of her and bring her nightgown back down to cover her.

"Not yet, princess" he whispered, bringing his fingers up to suck her sweet taste off of them. "I want you desperate with wanting me when we arrive at the palace."

It would have to be soon. He didn't think he could deny himself her body for much longer, not when she was so ready and eager for him.

"I will have you soon," he whispered into her hair. "And once I sink myself deep into you, you will never get me out from under your skin."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently this is what I do now on my lunch break instead of writing my new play or working on a cut of Hamlet. Hope you enjoy; I love getting feedback!


	5. Thunder Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things must end, and so must Kela & Loki's journey. Thunder is rumbling, and we all know what follows that.

Loki and Kela sat at a table in a small village public house, listening to the storm outside. He was in a mood to match the weather. Thunder always made him irritable. That morning as they were leaving their inn he had spied a young lordling in the stable staring at them. He supposed that now they were so close to the capital it had become inevitable that someone would recognize him; it was not as though he had ever been a particularly inconspicuous presence. While he was not wearing his formal armor, he had not deigned to disguise himself and arrogantly still dressed himself in a green and gold tunic and green travel cloak over his black leather pants. The man's eyes had met his, and Loki had seen his pupils dilate with recognition and fear. While Kela's head was turned, Loki had silently brought one finger up to his lips and stared down the trembling man, who had nodded quickly, bowed, and scurried away. Loki supposed he could have slipped away and killed him, but then Kela had taken his arm and pulled him over to their horse to mount up.

That was that, he supposed. They would have to end their wandering and come to their destination. It was probably for the best anyway. If he had to spend another sleepless night listening to Kela moan his name in supplication he wasn't sure his resolve would hold. She was so very ready. Loki was in her head and soon he would posses her body as well.

The rains had begun around midday, sudden and hard. They had ridden fast to the nearest small town and taken refuge in the pub. Kela was shivering across from him, her damp blouse clinging to her form. More out of self preservation than gallantry, (really, the girl had the most distracting curves), he took his cloak and wrapped it around her. She smiled damply in thanks and took a long pull from her mug of ale. As Loki glanced around the room he noticed a game board on a table in the corner. It would be a while until it cleared enough for them to set out again, and he needed some sort of distraction if he was going to keep his hands off of her.

"Kela, do you by any chance play at chess?" he asked.

"Why no my lord," she replied, looking up at him with wide, fatuously blinking eyes. "I do not play at chess."

He felt a moment of disappointment, until he saw her eyes narrow and an evil smile spread across her face.

"I don't play at chess," she repeated, "I _win_ at chess."

"Really?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Really," she answered, smirking. "Would you like me to show you?"

"Oh, I think I should like that very much," he replied, getting up quickly and fetching the set to their table.

"I suppose you also play with mastery?" she asked, teasingly.

"Lady Kela, you will find that I do everything with mastery," he practically purred, and was thrilled to see her blush to the roots of her honey colored hair. It was so easy to make her turn red, though she never objected or took offense to his more provocative remarks.

"I have no doubt," she mumbled, setting up the board.

"Would you like to make things more interesting?" he asked, taking the black pieces for his own.

"How?" she was well acquainted enough with him by now to be cautious before agreeing.

"A wager. Whoever wins the match may demand a forfeit from the vanquished."

"Very well," she laughed. "But don't worry. When I have defeated you, I shall not demand anything too embarrassing from you."

She was very, very good. That in itself didn't surprise him, he supposed, but he was not accustomed to having to try quite so hard. It had, in fact, been centuries since anyone other than Frigga had beaten him. It also did not help that as she bent over the board in concentration she granted him a very enticing view down her cleavage. The fact that she didn't seem to realize how distracting she was being only made it worse. Perhaps he should not have suggested the wager. The idea of her being even further indebted to him had seemed a good one at the time, but that only worked if he was the victor. It was slowly becoming apparent to him that this was in no way a guarantee. 

Two hours into the game there was still no sign that either of them had the upper hand. Normally this would have thrilled him, and he would have savored an eventual victory after a long, engaging contest all the more, but the rain had stopped and he knew that they needed to be on their way. Still, he could not abdicate. Not only did it go completely against his nature to do so, but it would cost him the forfeit. Reaching forward to move his bishop out of a trap that Kela had set for him, Loki directed a small touch of seidr towards the barmaid entering the room with a large tray of drinks. Tripping over nothing, the girl suddenly sent tankards flying across the length of the room, drawing all eyes to her. Loki stood up and went to assist her. It was important that Kela, who was also of course retrieving spilled mugs, see him away from the board. While they righted the maid, Loki flicked his fingers and slightly rearranged his pieces on the board, putting her three moves out of checkmate. A small smile played about his mouth. Cheating would not have been his first choice as a means of victory, but it certainly was better than the alternative.

When they returned to the game Kela looked confused. She stared at the pieces, then up at him. It was clear that she was aware of the new arrangement of his men, but was at a loss for an explanation. Her eyes narrowed at him, and he could see her debating whether to accuse him of mischief. He stared back at her with a look of mild innocence, watching her teeth worry at her lower lip.

"Is there something amiss?" he asked.

"No," she said slowly. "I just could have sworn..."

"Yes?"

"Nothing," she snapped. It was the first time he had heard her sound waspish. It appeared she did not take losing any better than he did. "It seems, my lord, that you have me."

"Indeed?"

"In three moves. Very well," she heaved a huge sigh and tipped over her king. "I submit."

He wondered if her choice of words was deliberate. Probably not, he decided, but they still did alarming things to his stomach. 

"What is the forfeit?"

"I don't know," he drawled, watching her eyes narrow further, "I will have to give it some thought."

As they returned the pieces to the box, the doors of the pub crashed open, and four burly soldiers dressed in the armor of Asgard burst in, followed by the unmistakable large form of his brother, hammer gripped tightly in his hand. Loki stood quickly and instinctively moved in front of Kela as Thor's blue glare bore into him.

"So it's true!" Thor growled. "Brother, you should not have come back."

*****

 

As Kela sat glued to her chair time seemed to stand still. There, framed by the doorway, in all his Godly splendor was Thor, her betrothed, and he was livid. Her first reaction was a feeling of acute guilt. While she knew technically she had done nothing wrong, she could not deny that she  _had_ spent the last week avoiding him in the company of a very attractive man who's voice alone did intense things to her insides. Then there were the nightly dreams that she had been having of his brother. True she had not asked to dream of being ravaged by the younger prince, but she hadn't exactly minded.

And now here he was, eyes angry and hammer held aloft as he searched the room. She braced herself for his reaction. Would he take her to task here, in public? Demand to know where she had been? Beg forgiveness for not having come to escort her to the palace himself? 

He was not, as it turned out, even looking for her.

"So it's true!" he growled, eyes fixed on Koli as he sprung from his chair, placing himself between Thor and Kela. "Brother, you should not have come back."

Brother? It was not true. It was not possible.

"Thor," Koli.. no, not Koli… sneered, "what are you doing here? And what business is it of yours where I go?"

"You are under an order of exile! It is death for you to defy it Loki!"

Loki. He was Loki. Of course he was. And she was the biggest idiot to ever live in the nine realms. It all slid together in her brain. Tall, dark hair, pale skin, and those eyes. How could she not have recognized him? True, he had filled out wonderfully, all hard, lean, muscle, but other than that he was remarkably similar. She was blind as  well as stupid. 

Frantically, she started going over all the things she had said to him over the past week. Sweet mercy, she had confessed to dreaming about him! All at once the dreams from the past few nights slammed back into her mind. Of course it was him. How did she not realize it before now? Her hero, her savior, the man in her dreams, they were all one. And he had been lying to her.

"Are you not even going to ask after your fiancé?" Loki demanded disdainfully.

"What? Kela? What do you know of her? What have you done with her?" Thor demanded angrily.

"If you used you eyes, you witless oaf, you would see that I've done nothing with her."

Kela stood and stepped out from behind Loki, and Thor seemed to see her for the first time.

"Lady Kela," Thor said, in obvious confusion, bowing over her hand. "Worry not, my brother will not be allowed to harm you."

Kela saw Loki's eyes roll as Thor attempted to pull her behind him, she assumed for safety.

"Hurt her?" he huffed, "I rescued her!"

"What do you mean? Rescued her from whom?"

"Why don't you ask her?" Loki suggested. "She does have a voice and a mind of her own."

"Forgive me, my lady," Thor turned to Kela. "Whatever harm my brother has caused you, he shall pay for with his life."

Kela realized that it was time for her to find her voice. True, Loki had played her for a fool, but he had saved her life. She looked over to where he stood, proud, every inch a prince. His eyes met hers, and she saw manic humor lurking in their depths, but also a slight entreaty.

"What he says is true," Kela stepped back between the brothers. "I was kidnapped by brigands along the road when the guards you sent to protect me proved incompetent. They intended to... well, they intended to rape me, my lord, and then ransom what was left of me back to you. If Prince Loki," she turned and gave him a hard look as she said his name, "had not come to my rescue, I would now either be dead or wishing I was. Since then he has served as my guide and my shield on my journey here."

"Loki, is this true?" Thor lowed Mjornir and stared at his brother. Loki merely shrugged one shoulder.

"The lady has no reason to lie," he answered, "and you have no reason to doubt her."

Kela stared at Loki. She was tremendously angry with him, but what she said was true. She did owe him her life and honor. She would not let him suffer for her rescue, and she had promised him that he would be rewarded for seeing her safely returned to Thor's side.

"My Lord Thor," she said formally after taking a deep breath, "we owe your brother a great debt. Rather than threatening him, you should be thanking him."

It was all she could do not slap the look of triumph off of Loki's smug face. She even thought she saw him wink at her as Thor looked away for a moment. That was it, she decided. She would save him from his brother, but only so that she would have the pleasure of killing him herself. Slowly, and with great relish.

Thor turned back to look at his brother, then at Kela, then his brother again. Out of nowhere a beatific smile split across his face and in two strides he had crossed the room to Loki and smothered him in an enthusiastic embrace that would have cracked the ribs of a smaller man.

"Brother! I am forever in your debt," Kela was dizzy from the sudden change in her betrothed demeanor. "Come, let us go home. Mother will be so pleased to see you!"


	6. First Night at the Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could be more cozy family dinner? Can Kela forgive Loki, or will she hold onto anger?  
> Another little hint of dream smut also awaits.

So it seemed he was home. Loki was escorted to his suite of rooms by his brother, with the firm commandment from Thor to join him, Kela, and Frigga at a family dinner that evening.

"And what will Odin say to this?" Loki challenged. "Should we not confirm with him that my head is to stay on my shoulders before we start making dinner plans?"

"He has gone into the Odinsleep," Thor confided. "Asgard is currently under my rule."

"Heard I was coming home, did he?" Loki snarked. "Or did someone else raise a topic he wished to avoid?"

Thor ignored his brother's comment and turned to Kela, who he had dragged along in his wake, barely speaking to her.

"I very much hope that you will feel up to joining us as well, my lady," he said to her now, standing a bit too close for Loki's liking. "There will be a week-long celebration of our nuptials beginning tomorrow, of course. But perhaps a small family meal to start with would give us time to get to know each other better."

"Thank you my lord, that is very thoughtful of you," Kela replied, smiling up at Thor and making Loki's teeth clench. Indeed, it was more thoughtful than he would have given his brother credit for.

"It was mother's idea," Thor confessed.

Ah. Of course.

”Come, allow me to escort you to your rooms,” Thor said, and whisked Kela away, his hand resting proprietarily on her back. Loki wanted to cut it off. 

He had to get himself under control. He had been watching them interact. Thor seemed to bounce back and forth between benign neglect and overheated puppy. He obviously found her attractive (really what straight man wouldn't) from the way his eyes raked her form when she wasn't looking, but had no idea how to talk to her. They had less than nothing to talk about. She wasn't someone to be rendered tongue tied by his massive biceps and feats of strength, and the very thought of Thor appreciating a well crafted verse or debating the merits of different translations of a play was laughable. It was unacceptable that someone as unique as she was should find herself betrothed to a cliché. 

In addition to all of this, she had not so much as looked at him for hours. The memory of her eyes glowing up at him with admiration and gratitude plagued him. It had fed so nicely into his ego, and now she was wasting all her looks on Thor. True, her eyes were filled only with polite regard, but at least he had her attention. Loki needed to pull that focus back to him. He was not willing, he found to no surprise, to share  his delectable little princess and her attentions.

All of his irritability vanished when he walked into the small dining room and saw the tall, beautiful woman standing there. The rest of his adopted family might inspire homicidal urges, but Frigga was his one source of love. She turned as he entered and smiled at him and he felt just a small portion of the ice around his heart thaw ever so slightly.

”My son,” she greeted him with an embrace. “I knew you would find a way home to us.”

”Mother. You are lovely as ever.”

”We owe you a great debt of gratitude for saving little Kela. It would have broken my heart to have to tell her mother she was harmed.”

”A stroke of luck for us all,” he agreed. 

“You must tell me what you thought of her before she and your brother arrive. I only met the girl once, but her mother sings her praises and I have always trusted her judgement.”

”Mothers have been known to be biased," he chuckled. "Why you even seem to find merit in your sons. But in this case it’s well deserved. The lady is intelligent, charming, accomplished, and far to good for my fool of a brother.”

”You seem quite taken with the girl,” Frigga observed. “I hope you have behaved yourself.”

She knew him far too well for his comfort. 

“Don't worry, mother," he assured her, “I have not so much as tasted her lips.”

He had tastes other parts of her, of course, and planned to sample the entire menu before he was done, but truly, that was hardly the type of thing one confided to one’s mother. 

 

***

 

Kela could not believe how foolish she had been. How had she been so stupid as to miss all of the signs staring her in the face? His air of superior nobility, the prowess with which he had defeated nine assailents unassissted, his intimate knowledge of the palace and the royal family, and, most damning of all, his startlong good looks. He hadn’t even made any attempt to hide his appearance! She knew, everyone knew, that Loki favored green and gold, and she had sat there under his green cloak this afternoon and not so much as suspected his true identity. How he must have laughed at her. 

Dinner was excruciating. He was distant, aloof, just as she remembered him as a boy. A smirk played about his mouth as he watched her attempt to make stilted small talk with his brother. She couldn’t help but think how natural their evening conversations had been. By the end of each meal they would both be in tears of laughter or the throes of debate. Lord, how she longed to stab him with her dinner knife. 

When the meal ended, Thor halfheartedly invited her to join him for mead with his friends, but she pleaded fatigue of a long week. He looked torn, wanting to escape to more convivial companionship she was sure, but not wanting to seem unchivalrous by abandoning her to find her way back through the maze of corridors to her rooms. 

“Don’t worry, brother,” Loki offere, speaking for the first time in some while, “I will make sure she returns to her quarters safely. After all, my rooms are right down the hall from hers.”

And she was whisked out the door on Loki’s arm, Thor breathing a sigh of thanks and relief. She released his arm as soon as they turned a corner, court smile dropping from her face, eyes turning cold. How dare he try to swoop in and be her rescuer again? Did he think she was so easy to manipulate? 

“That was one of the most painful dinners I have ever attended,” he remarked casually. She turned to glare at him. “Ah, you are angry at me, aren’t you, princess?”

“You lied me,” she accused, hating the hint of hurt she heard sneak into her voice. 

“Only a little,” he shrugged. “And not about anything important. “

”Your identity is important!” She raged. 

“You are magnificent when you are angry,” he had observed with a grin. 

“There is no need to flatter me any longer, you highness. You are back in the good graces of your family, and you have had amusement at my expense. As you also performed me a service for which I will always be grateful, I will choose to overlook your deceit. I am happy you and Thor have reconciled, for both your sakes. Family is too important for grudges. However, as I need no more assistance from you, and there can be nothing more you want from me, I will thank you to keep your distance as much as the dictates of the court will allow.”

”Ah, but that, dear Kela, is where you are wrong,” he purred. “There is much, much more that I want from you.”

”In the name of Valhallah, what?” She demanded. 

“ _Everything_ ,” he growled, and pulled her harshly to his chest, lips crashing into hers. It was not a gentle kiss. His mouth assulted hers, hot and demanding. Teeth nipped at her lower lip until she opened slightly and his tounge plunged into her mouth. She heard a small whimpering noise and realised in horror and alarm that it had come from her. Her body pressed into his, molding against him. One of his hands buried itself in her hair, the other came to the small of her back and pushed her even tighter to her chest. She was totally dominated by his body and it felt wonderful. 

A groan ripped from his throat as he pulled back and looked down at her, eyes black with desire. “Now do you understand?” He rasped.

“Understand what?” She asked, completely befuddled.

“Why you will never marry Thor,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You are mine, Kela. You belong to me. He will never possess you.“

“You have lost your mind, your highness,” she breathed, struggling to pull away but held tightly in his vice-like grip. “The marriage celebrations begin tomorrow. I will be wed to your brother at the end of the week.”

“We'll see about that,” he said with a smirk, leaning forward to nip at her lip again. “I'd offer a wager, but you already owe me one forfeit. I'd hate to put you further in my debt. This is your room, incidentally,” he added, gesturing to the door next to them. “I am three doors down... if you need anything.”

His slow up and perusal of her left no doubt what he implied. He released her, kissed her hand, and grinned maniacally.

“Good night love,” he murmured. “I hope you dream of me.”

She really should have stabbed him. Dream of him indeed. She would die of mortification for ever having confessed those dreams.

She didn’t flatter herself for a moment that this was about her. The whole realm knew of his lifelong ambition to best his brother and the lengths it had driven him to in the past. How much would it thrill him to pluck Thor’s fiancé right out from under him, and with only days to go before the wedding. No, she was just a pawn. A means to his brother’s humiliation. She would not succumb to him, no matter how much her body longed to surrender.

She could not seem to fall asleep, despite how exhausted events of the day had made her. Her brain simply refused to shut down. The large bed she lay in felt empty and overly soft. She realized with a hint of desperation that she missed the way he felt lying next to her, missed the scent of him beside her. She was never going to be able to sleep. Damn him!

Getting up she walked to the wardrobe that had been provided for her. With a guilty pang she opened it and took out the green cloak he had draped over her that afternoon. It still smelled like him. Hating him and herself in equal measure, she slipped out of her nightgown, wrapped her naked body in his cloak, and lay back down on the bed, feeling him around her. It was all she needed. Her last traitorous thought as she drifted to sleep was that she too hoped she would dream of him.

_She lay on his bed, arms bound to the headboard above her. There was no fear in her, just the ache of anticipation.  A cool breeze blew in the window, and she felt her nipples harden beneath her thin, white nightgown. She heard a hum of appreciation and looked to where he stood at the bottom of the bed, bare chested in his tight black leather pants, an almost feral grin on his face._

_"I've been thinking about this since the first moment I laid eyes on you, princess," Loki smirked, licking his lips. "The things I wanted to do you."_

_"What things?" she asked, breathlessly._

_"This, for starters," he said, and a slim dagger appeared in his hand as he knelt on the bed beside her. "Do you trust me, love?"_

_"Should I?" she asked._

_"That depends," he smirked. "How fond are you of the gown?"_

_"The gown?" she began to ask, but before she could get the words out he lifted the fabric and cut down with the blade, slicing her nightgown in half neck to hem._

_"Mmm. Perfect," he purred, separating the fabric. He took one large breast in his hand and squeezed, rubbing his thumb over her already hardened nipple. Leaning down he took it in his mouth and sucked, his tongue flicking over her. Ribbons of electricity ran down to her core and she felt her desire pooling between her thighs. "You have the most delicious breasts I've ever tasted. I could feast on them all night. That is if there weren't other, even sweeter, desserts to tempt me. Spread you legs and make yourself comfortable, darling. We've got a long night ahead of us."_

Alone in the big bed, wrapped in Loki's cloak, Kela moaned and writhed.

 


	7. Morning in Asgard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor is oblivious to Loki & Kela's mutual frustration as they all start their day. Can they keep him that way despite the growing tensions between them?
> 
> A taste of actual, wide awake, public smut!

Loki did not sleep well. The room was too quiet and his bed too empty. Not to mention that after that kiss with Kela in the hall his cock was achingly hard. Her responses to him had been perfect, betraying the need she was not quite ready to accept. She might say all the propper words, but her body had molded to his and her tongue welcomed him into her mouth.

He swore, thinking of her in lying in another bed just a few rooms away. Was she even now indulging in her dreams of him? Making all those sensual little noises as she became progressively wetter? He cursed again and lowered his hand to halfheartedly stroke himself. It was not his grip he wanted around his shaft, but her tight, slick cunt. Damn, but when he had set out to make her want him he had not realized how much he was stoking his own desire.

The sun had barely risen when a knock pounded repeatedly on his door. Loki groaned. Only one person would dare disturb him so insistently.

“What?” He snarled, not getting out of his bed.

Taking that as an invitation, Thor pushed the door open and strode into the room. His eyes were bright and alert, though Loki had no doubt he had been up drinking until all hours. Stupid overgrown puppy.

“I see your habits haven’t changed,” Thor chuckled, looking down at him where he glared on his bed. “Come on, get dressed and come train with me. It has been too long.”

Loki sighed. He knew his brother well enough to know that he would not be fobbed off. It was get up, or have him stand there pestering at him. Grumbling about respect for privacy Loki dragged himself out of bed and over to his wash stand. As far as methods of waking went, he far preferred Kela’s hands playing over his body and fisting in his hair to his brother’s early morning hammering.

“Let us at least eat something first,” he insisted, pulling on his clothes.

“I’ve broken my fast already,” Thor replied jovially, “but I will keep you company. Perhaps as you eat you can tell me about my bride to be.”

At the words Loki’s mood soured even further and he once more glared at his brother. Fortunately Thor, used to his brother’s moods, attributed his snarl to his distaste for mornings.

“I am truly grateful for your rescue of her,” Thor clapped a meaty hand on his shoulder. “And for your escort of her here. I know she has a dislike of the Bifrost, and it was good of you to humor her. Still, I know it couldn’t have been easy, all that enforced time alone together. I think I would have gone mad trying to think of things to say to her. She is an odd girl. Beautiful, though. I won’t mind bedding her at least.”

Thor’s face, Loki noted, was just begging to be conected to Loki’s fist. Perhaps some time in the practice yard would not come amiss.

“She is extreamly intelligent and well read,” Loki snapped at his brother. “Also an accomplished musician and a keen observer of human nature. As for being beddable... well, you don’t really expect me to coment on that, do you?”

“Jealous brother?” Thor teased. “Should I begin looking for a wife for you as well?”

“Norns forbid!” He snapped. There was only one woman he wanted now, and it was the one bound to his brother. “Breakfast can wait. Let’s go hit things”

He needed violence more than food. If he could not be working up a lustful sweat in bed with Kela, he would have to settle for a deadly one in the practice yards. If he managed to bloody his obnoxious brother’s perfect face, so much the better.

***

Three hours later, Kela sat picking at her breakfast, appreciating the quiet, when her solitude was interupted by the Royal Princes sauntering into the room, mood high as they bantered back and forth. 

They stopped on the doorway when they saw her, and she had a moment to appreciate them there, standing side by side. It really wasn’t fair to the women of the universe. They made perfect foils for one another. Thor, golden, blue eyes gleaming openly, smile warming the room like the newly risen sun. Next to him Loki, all sharp lines and angles, midnight hair falling around a face as pale as the moon, eyes also blue but guarded despite their brightness. It was enough to take one’s breath away. She could understand why most of the realm was in love with Thor, but her eyes inevitably strayed to his darker shadow. 

And that was the problem. She had agreed to this marriage because she had assumes that passion wasn’t in her nature. It had never really possed her before, and she thought herself well past the age of first love. A practical marriage of state, one higher than she could ever have dreamed of, seemed an obvious decision to make. But now, every thought in her head was of the wrong prince. And to call those thoughts passionate was to undersell them. She wanted him to do things to her that made her blush and squirm where she sat. That being the case, could she really, in good conscience, wed his brother? She had half made up her mind the end the engagement.   

But looking at them now, smiling and teasing one another like brothers, her resolve left her. She knew of the rivalry that had been instilled in them since childhood. It had been the cause of far too much strife already, not just for the two of them but for all of the nine realms. If they had truly reached some semblance of peace, could she really bring herself to risk that balance by telling Thor that she was jilting him, a mere week before the wedding, because of an uncontrollable lust for the brother who had already tried to steal his crown?

And what of her home? The stars knew her family needed her to make an advantageous marriage if they were to support their people. Thor offered a wealth of security in perpetuity for all those she cared about. If she were to leave him in such a shoddy way it was doubtful that anyone else would dare to risk the royal family’s wrath by offering for her hand. And she was not fool enough to think that Loki had marriage in mind. 

“Lady Kela,” Thor boomed, smiling at her. “What a happy surprise. May we join you?”

”Of course,” she replied, for really what could she say?

”You’ll have to forgive our appearance,” he apologized. “We’ve just come from the training yards.”

Indeed they did both look a bit disheveled. It should take away from thier looks, but instead only emphasized how very masculine they both were. 

She watched as they each filled a plate and then came to sit on either side of her. As he folded himself neatly onto the bench Loki placed his mouth near her ear and murmured just loyd enough for her to hear “I missed you in my bed last night, princess.”

She choked on her coffee and set her book skittering off the table. Loki bent down to retrieve it. As he sat back up, handing her the book with his right hand, his left skimmed up her leg, pushing her skirt with it. 

Kela’s eyes went wide as his hand settled on her bare knee. He merely returned her look blankly with a slight smile on his lips. 

"It is good luck that we should find you, Lady Kela," Thor said with a smile as Loki began tracing spirals on Kela's inner thigh under the table. "I am happy to tell you that my brother has agreed to provide you with some training."

"Training!" Kela squeaked, mind jumping to inappropriate places as Loki's hand moved steadily upward.

"In self defense," Thor clarified.

"Unless there was something else you had in mind?" Loki added, raising an eyebrow. His fingers had reached the edge of her panties.

"No my lord," she ground out, bringing her hand down to cover his and keep it from progressing further. "Though you will understand my confusion, since you did claim mastery of everything."

"Loki, that is just like you to be so vain," Thor chided.

"Oh, you know me," Loki laughed, removing her hand with his free one and moving it to his lap to cup his growing erection, "I'm incorrigible."

Kela drew in a sharp breath as he subtly ground himself into her hand. She had seen him hard before, most mornings on their travel, and even woken up with him pressing against her, but she had always carefully avoided prolonged contact. Now, as he continued to press into her, she could feel just how large he was. Despite herself she let her thumb trail up and down his length and was rewarded with seeing him choke to cover his reaction. His hand released hers and reached for his water glass. It was her turn to smile blandly. 

"Could you not train me yourself?" Kela asked Thor and felt a pinch through her panties.

"I would love to my lady," he answered, blissfully unaware of the tension in the room as Loki and Kela continued to stroke each other under the table, "but I don't think I would be the best choice for you."

"My brother’s technique relies on brute strength," Loki practically purred as he slipped a finger into her shockingly wet slit. "I believe that you would be better served by someone with a bit more finesse," he added, thumb flicking over her clit and he inserted another finger and curved them upward to slide against her g-spot. She gripped him hard and felt his cock twitch through the material of his pants. Kela balled her other had in skirt to keep from crying out.

"I wish I could disagree with him, but unfortunately he is right," Thor laughed.

"Don't worry princess," Loki told her smugly, thrusting his fingers in and out of her. "Though I mean to work you hard and leave you aching, you will be fully satisfied with the results."

He flicked his thumb once more and pressed his fingers in hard, as far as they would go, and Kela closed her eyes and stiffened as she felt herself cum silently. She didn't know whether she wanted to kill him or push him down and straddle him right here on the table. Probably both. She pulled her trembling hands out from under the table, raised her water glass, took a long, steadying drink, and tried to make her tremors seem like nerves.

"Very well, My Lord," she said to Thor, refusing to meet Loki's eyes as his fingers still toyed lazily with her sopping sex. "If you insist, I will try to learn."

"I'm afraid I do. I almost lost you once, Lady Kela. I could not bare to lose you for good."

And wasn't that just what she wanted to hear?

"Well, Loki, you promised to go riding with me," Thor said standing up, as Loki quickly withdrew his hand from her. "If we are to do so, we must go now. My Lady, we will see you tonight for your court presentation."

"I look forward to it," she lied, finally daring to meet Loki's eye as Thor brought their empty plates over to the sideboard.

Slowly, holding her eyes with his own, Loki brought his fingers his lips and lewdly sucked them one by one. She felt intense waves of crimson flush her cheeks, a mixture or shame and arousal.

"Thank you for allowing us to join you for breakfast, princess," Loki grinned smugly. "It was delicious."

 


	8. The Allmother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga is neither blind nor stupid, and she does not approve of the way things are progressing between her sons and Kela. Will her advice be heeded? Should it be? 
> 
> A lack of new smut here, but some plot movement.

After the incident at breakfast Kela did her best to avoid Loki. This was made easier by what seemed to be an endless assortment of dress fittings, formal receptions, and tournaments of skill held in her honor. During most of these Thor hovered at her side, attentive but clearly bored, while Loki lurked within sight but did not draw too near. It should have made her feel better, but instead it raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Every time she would glance in his direction she would find him staring at her, a secretive smile playing about his lips that inevitably made her blush and turn away quickly. She was sure that this was just the reaction he was trying for. 

The one time she could not avoid him was during her training sessions. She had assumed that he would use them to continue his attempted conquest of her, but instead he remained all business throughout. She had attempted a joke nervously at the beginning of her first lesson, but he was having none of it.  

“This is no game, princess,” he had told her seriously. “Someone deliberately sabotaged your protection for you travels here. While I am overjoyed for the opportunity it gave to be your savior, I cannot be with you every moment. No how matter how much I wish it were so. Now, take the dagger and hold it as I showed you.”

True to his word, he left her sore and worn out after every lesson, though not in the way she had anticipated. She did pick up a few things after grueling repetition, but she knew she would never be better than adequate.

She arrange to have the lessons midday, so that Thor could come to the end and escort her to lunch. Loki smirked at her when her betrothed came to collect her, plainly showing he was aware of her maneuvering.

Part of her wished he would just say something. He had made her cum in the most embarrassing of circumstances, sitting next to the man she was pledged to wed, his own brother, and then walked away as though nothing untoward had happened. Was this really all just some elaborate game to him? And did he not care that she was destined to become a casualty in it?

It was three days later when Frigga, cornered her privately. She had been aware of the Allmother’s scrutiny for some time now, and was made almost as nervous by her as she was by Loki’s gaze. Frigga was frighteningly astute, and while she might not advertise it, Kela was certain that she weilded much of the power behind Thor’s new throne. So when Frigga, moments after intercepting a furtive glance between Kela and her youngest son, pulled her future daughter-in-law into a secluded alcove, Kela’s stomache dropped. 

“Kela,” the Allmother pinned her down with a stare, “you know that I have wanted this match from the beginning. Your mother is one of my oldest friends, and you posess the wit and intellect that Asgard so desperately needs in its next queen. But I find I must ask you, do you love my son?”

Kela lookes at her in shock. 

“Your Majesty,” she stuttered, “I have only known Prince Thor a short time, and this was always recognized as a marriage of state. While I am sure affection will grow between us, I have never pretended -“

”No,” Frigga interupted her, “you misunderstand me. I asked if you loved  _my_ son.”

”My Lady?”

”You will find, Lady Kella, should you be blessed with children some day, that while you love them all dearly, some of them become more precious to you. Especially if they begin their life fragile and in desperate need of your love and protection,” Kela followed her eyes as they drifted to where Loki stood nearby, alone on the fringes of the crowd as he so often seemed be. "So I will ask you again, and I will know if you lie, do you love my son?”

”I, I don’t know,” Kela confessed, burrying her face in her hands. “I don’t want to.”

”What is between you child? I’ve seen how you look at each other. No good can come of it. Has he bedded you?”

”No!” She protested, a bit too loudly.  “But...”

”But?”

”I swear he is stalking me. I feel like a rabbit being tracked by a wolf,” it felt good to get the words out. “Everywhere I go I can feel his eyes on me. I want to be a good wife to Thor, a good queen for Asgard, a good daughter for my family. But I cannot deny that I am drawn to him.”

”Oh my poor dear,” Frigga sighed, as tears slid from Kela’s eyes. “I will speak with Loki. If you really are determined to be Thor’s wife, continue to keep your distance. He has always been jealous of anything Thor is given, but he will tire of the chase soon enough.”

Kela forced her face into what she hoped was a grateful smile, but inside she wanted to weep all the harder. She knew that Loki’s interest in her was motivated by jealousy, but it still hurt to hear the Allmother state it so baldly  

***

Loki watched his mother pull Kela aside, a slight frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. He was sure they were just going over more details for damned wedding, but he still had to surpress a small pang of unease before his attention was claimed by the nearest courtier wanting to welcome him home. It was humerous, he thought sardonically, how many of these petty sheep who had cast scorn on him aftet his fall were sidling up to him now that Thor had taken him back into the royal fold. He smiled passively at them all, accepted their assurances that they always knew he would return in triumph.

He slipped out of the reception; now that Kela was no longer there, there was no reason for him to subject himeself to a room of hypocrites.

It had not been easy keeping his distance from her, and he asked himself almost hourly if he was doing the right thing. But he was not one to abandon a plan once put in motion. Besides, he dearly wanted her to come to him.

That was the reason for his withdrawal from her side, of course. He could have seduced her into his bed at any time, he was certain of that after the other morning. If she let him touch her so intimately in Thor’s company, under his very nose, how much more would she let him do alone behind closed doors? Her body would betray her, even if her mind knew better.

The thought pulled at him, and on more than one occasion he had caught himself staring at her, vivid images in his head of grabbing her by the wrist, dragging her into the nearest unoccupied room, and tearing off all of her clothes. It was a hard image to resist.

But just think how much sweeter it would be to have her choose her fate. He had painstakingly planted all the seeds. Appealed to her intelligence as well as her lust. Oh yes, though, lust was important. He had given her a taste, no more than that, of what he meant to do to her. She was a creative girl, she could extrapolate from there. If his mere hand could make her cum so easily, what could he do with his mouth? His cock? He knew from the glances she threw at him that her imagination was hard at work. And when she realized all he had to give her in terms of pleasure, she would choose him of her own free will. She would turn away from his brother, seek him out, and submit to him. It would be glorious.

It was early evening when he was given a message by one of the palace servants that his mother wished to see him in her private study. Suddenly Loki was ten years old again, panic rising in his chest. It was an almost daily occurrence as a child that he and Thor, together or separately, had endured a dressing down or worse from Odin. He had gotten to the point where it barely registered with him. Far rarer, and infinitely worse, were those horrid times when he was called to his mother's study. Seeing the disappointment in her eyes as she calmly told him how he had let her down was one of the worst things imaginable, and had often led him to hide away from his more callus brother so that Thor would not see his tears of shame. If Frigga wanted to see him in her study now, there could only be one reason.

He knocked and entered to find her seated behind her neat writing desk. She gestured to the arm chair across from her and he tried to avoid looking like a guilty school boy as he slunk into it.

"Hello Loki," she began. "Thank you for coming to see me."

"As if I could deny you anything," he smiled, hoping to smooth his way with charm.

"Let us hope not," she replied, with a brief smile. "Loki, you have to stop."

"Stop what?" he asked, hedging.

"This business with Kela. I see the way your eyes stare at her. It will end badly."

"All the court stares at her. She is beautiful woman, an ornament to the throne, proof of your exquisite judgement, and great good fortune for my brother, our Lord Protector Thor."

"Do you think I am as dumb and blind as the rest of those you fool?" she asked him. "You do not look at her as potential brother."

"What does it matter what I do?" he growled, standing to pace the room, unable to sit still under her interrogation. "She is marrying Thor in four days, and while he might not be overly excited about the concept of being a husband, he has made it quite clear that he has great, albeit rather pedestrian, plans for the wedding night." 

He had not meant to spit out that last part, but really, if he had to listen to his brother muse one more time about how eager her was to mount her he was going to do damage to someone.

"Loki, you must reconcile yourself to this marriage!," Frigga looked at him where prowled like a caged animal. "I am eternally grateful to Kela for reuniting our family, I do not want her to tear it apart. So, either give up your pursuit of the girl -"

"And if she doesn't want me to?" he couldn't resist asking.

"Then take your whore and depart from the palace to where the two of you will not bring public shame to your brother."

"SHE IS NOT A WHORE!" he shouted, spinning to face his mother. "I will let no one, not even you call her so."

"Ah," Frigga smiled, "so it is more than a game. You do care for the lady. I thought as much."

"You are too clever by half," he muttered, sinking back into his chair.

"If you care for her, you must do as I say. She tells me she wants to be a good queen for Asgard, and she has the ability to do so. My son, if you seduce her for your sport, to prove yourself better than your brother, what do you think will become of her? A prince's reputation may bounce back, no matter how often he strays. A young woman's? The world is not so forgiving. Whore is the best thing that she will be called. Is that truly what you want for her?"

He looked at his boots, feeling like the lowest creature ever to crawl out of the mud. He hated this. Hated the way she had of making him look at things from another point of view. Hated her, almost, in that moment for ruining his plans.

"I will think on it," he said grudgingly.

"That is all that I ask," she sighed. "Now come, sit down and read to me. It has been too long since we have spent an evening together my son."


	9. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki tries to behave, Kela tries alcohol. The obvious results? More smut!

Loki had disappeared. It had been two days since Kela had so much as caught sight of a hint of his green cape and her anxiety was growing at an alarming rate. Had something happed to him? Surely she would have heard if it had. She knew she should be welcoming the reprieve, but to go from finding him lurking around every corner to his seeming complete absense from the palace was unnerving. Finally, unable to resist any longer, she had asked Thor with exaggerated casualness what had become of his brother, but he had simply shrugged. 

“He does what he wants,” was the unhelpful reply. 

He didn’t even show up for Kela’s daily lesson. She arrived early, telling herself it wasn’t because she longed for the sight of him, only to find Lady Sif waiting for her. 

“Loki has asked me to take over your training,” she explained. “Show me what you have learned.”

It wasn’t that Sif was a bad teacher, indeed, in some ways it was better to have a woman teaching her, but she missed Loki’s wit and encouragement. Sif seemed vaguely uncomfortable around her. It became obvious why when Thor arrived at the end of the session. Kela recogized the look on Sif’s face as she glanced at Thor all too well. It wss the look she felt in her own eyes when she looked at Loki. Oh, what a tangled mess they were in! 

It was two nights befor the wedding, and according to tradition Thor and his male companions planned to spend the night carousing in town. It was thought best to do this two nights before, he explained, since the celebrations could sometimes last well into the morning. 

“Lady Sif,” he suggested, eyes brightening at the idea, “you and Kela should make a night of it as well!”

”She’s not going with you?” Kels asked, and saw Thor blush.

“Some of the places we visit might not be to her liking,” he mumbled. “But fear not, I will do nothing to bring you dishonor.”

She wanted to laugh as she almost wished that he would. It would give her a blameless out. 

Did she want an out? She shouldn’t, but as the day of the ceremony crept ever nearer it felt as though a noose was tightening around her neck.

When Thor left to join his party Lady Sif looked as miserable as Kela felt. She seemed to pull herself to gether through sheer will power, looked at Kela, and nodded.

”Let’s get drunk,” she said.

And they did. Kela could not remember the last time she had let herself go so much. She normally liked to keep a tight grip of controle on herself, but it was all just too much. She wanted to forget everything that had happened to her in the last week. Alcohol seemed like a fine way to start. 

It was later, as she was standing on a table in the palace ale hall singing the first of what turned into many songs from across the nine realms, that it occurred to her briefly that this might not have been her wisest moment.

 *****

Since his talk with Frigga, Loki had been doing his best to avoid Kela. He had taken to eating in his chambers, avoiding all official audiences, and had even gone so far as to cast a spell of invisibility on himself when he saw her rounding a corner one morning. He bruskly informed Sif that she would be taking over the training sessions and left without waiting to hear her reply.

His temper was even shorter than usual, and he saw the servants quake when he looked at them. Smart of them. He would love to have someone to take out his agression on. Everything had been progressing so well. He had been certain that by this time Kela would be his. But then his mother had to raise doubts within him. Could he really bring himself to destroy the girl’s reputation? Unbidden he remembered her looking up at him, eyes glowing with gratitude as she called him her hero and thanked him for saving her honor. Had he done that just to ruin her himself? Well, yes, actually. He had. But that had been before he got to know her. Damn, damn, damn.

He had been dragged along by Thor, dressed in all their formal finery, into a rather disreputable tavern near the palace to toast to his impending nuptials. He thought about finding a willing barmaid or two to direct his thwarted lust towards. There were certainly no lack of them hovering around the table. It was a predictable outcome when his brother insisted on them wearing helms, capes, and armor to better attract attention. Even now Thor bounced one on his knee while Fandral sat with either arm draped around a different girl. But none of them were who he wanted, and he knew it would only increase his frustration.

It appeared, much to his shock, that his brother was feeling the same way. After a mere five pints of ale Thor gently removed the girl from his lap and suggested they head back to the palace. That was unsual. He had assumed that the purpose of this outing was for his brother to give one last attempt at sleeping with every whore in Asgard. Could it be he was more under Kela’s spell than Loki had realized? The thought did nothing to improve his mood.

“We’re leaving already?” Volstag asked in surprise as the princes stood to leave.

“We left Sif to drink in the palace ale hall,” Thor explained. “We should go collect her. We can have more rounds there. “

Ah, that made more sense. It also appealed to Loki, as it would make it easier for him to slip out of the room and return to his rooms.

As They walked into the Ale Hall Loki was relating a story to Hogun, who he hated least of the Warriors Three, when he heard a voice singing a bawdy tune. They rounded a corner and his words died on his lips. There, standing on a table, was Kela looking totally, beautifully disheveled. Her honey blond hair had tumbled down from its pins to curl around her shoulders. Her face was flushed from a combination of laugter and alcohol. She was obviously drunk and completely alluring.

She was just finishing her song to thunderous applause when they walked in. Her eyes widened as she sae him and he realized it was too late to leave unnoticed. The crowd was demanding another song and a small smile formed on her lips. He had gussed that she must have a beautiful singing voice, just from hearing her speak. He had tried several times to get her to sing for him, but she had always demured shyly. She did not do so now.

Swaying slightly, she began singing again and the honey in her voice matched her hair perfectly. It was a sensuous voice, and the look in her eyes matched the promise in her song, a ballad of forbidden love no longer denied. As she sang her eyes never once left him. They started locked on his, then suggestively wandered up and down his body before returning to his face for the end. It was the most erotic thing he had ever experienced and they were both fully clothed and a room apart.

He wanted to throttle her. All the steps he had taken the past two days to save her reputation would be pointless if she continued so blatantly. Crossing swiftly when she finished to the table he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down while the crowd erupted in a roar for her. Not bothering to be gentle he dragged her over to the side of the room and glared murder at her.

“Your Highness,” she curtsied impishly, “did you like my song?”

“If you continue to serenade me like that, Lady Kela,” he ground out from between clenched teeth, “than even an egotistical dolt like my brother will begin to take notice that you prefer me to him.”

“Three things,” she held up three fingers unsteadily between them, “one, your dolt of a brother is far too egotistical to think I could prefer anyone to him, especially you. B, I would say egotism runs in the family, as I have never said that I prefer you, much less that I was serenading you. And third, if you don’t want me to serenade you publicly, then why don’t you take me someplace private to sing for you?”

“Good lord woman,” he snarled. “I am trying to behave!”

“I thought you were supposed to be the God of Mischief,” she goaded him. “But I guess after all you’re nothing more than a tease. How disappointing.”

Loki actually heard a growl come out of his throat. Grabbing her by the shoulders he propelled her out the door, pausing to snap at a passing servant “inform Prince Thor that Lady Kela is feeling indisposed and has retired for the night.”

He did a quick mental inventory of the rooms in their vicinity that might be vacant and smiled darkly, steering her around three corners and down a hall. He was sure he was bruising her shoulders but did not loosen his grip. She had asked for the God of Mischief, by Valhalla she would get him.

Throwing open one of the wide double doors, he roughly dircted Kela into a cavernous, empty room and crossed to mount the stairs to the one piece of furniture in it. Releasing her shoulders and tossing his helm to one side, Loki sat down on the throne of Asgard, legs splayed wide apart. Kela stared up at him from a few steps below.

“Well?” He purred silkily. “We are in private. Are you not going to open your lovely mouth for me Kela? Or am I not the one who is a tease?”

He watched as a slow, seductive smile spread across her face. Climbing the last few steps to the dais, Kela sank to her knees. With a giggle she reached over, picked up his horned helmet and placed it over her honied curls. A wave of fire shot through him seeing her before him. And that was before she leaned forward and unlaced his trousers, pulling his rock hard erection out into her soft hand.

“I dreamed of doing this here,” she breathed, and ran her tongue up his length. His breath caught in his chest. “Even before I knew who you were, as far back as that first night, I wanted you.”

Her mouth came down and pulled in his head. Teasingly she ran her tounge arond him has she reached down with one hand to cup his balls. Her eyes, so dark they were almost all black, looked up at him from under his helm and she slowly slid her mouth down, taking him all the way in. He hissed through his teeth as she held there a moment, working her throat and tongue around him. Then she started moving slowly up and down and he had to bite his fist to keep from crying out.

He let her set her own pace at first, but a week’s worth of frustration had built up an insistent need within him. Reaching down he gripped the horns like handles and used them to guide her head to take him faster, deeper, harder. He wondered briefly if he was hurting her, but he was too far gone in his own need to care. She was wet and warm and she was his. With a groan ripped from his very core he came in her throat, holding her down until every last bit was milked from him.

As he finally allowed her to sit back on her heels, she ran her tongue over him one last time, licking him clean. He tugged on her wrist and she rose from her knees. He pulled her into his lap, and she cuddled her head under his chin.

“You are magnificent, my love,” he praised her softly.

She looked up into his eyes and smiled. ;

 


	10. Decisions

Kela sat on Loki’s lap, feeling the after effects of his orgasm shudder through his body and smuggly reveled in her own power to reduce him to this. Her own body reacted so strongly to him, it was reassuring to know that she could also reduce him to want. 

She watched Loki lazily twirl his helmet between his hands. 

“You looked bewitching wearing this, love,” he told her once his breathing had returned to normal. “But I think I would enjoy the site even more were you wearing nothing else.”

”Then take me to bed and let me rid myself of these bothersome clothes,” she replied with a giggle. 

“No princess,” he said firmly. “Not tonight”

”What?!?” Kela demanded. 

“You are very drunk, love. When I finally take you, and it will be soon, I want you fully aware. There will be no ambiguity that you are giving yourself to me willingly and eagerly.”

”Please, Loki?” She wheedled. “I am willing, so very, very willing right now.”

He chuckled at her big, pleading eyes. 

“I do love the way you beg, pet,” he said with a smirk. Remember that for tomorrow.”

”Tomorrow?” She asked. 

“Tomorrow night, after the evening meal, you will present yourself to me in my chambers. You will be sober, and you will give yourself, without hesitation, to me completely. I want you alert and aware so that you feel everything that I am going to do to you. I will strip you bare and revel in every inch of your body. I will bring you so much pleasure that it borders on pain. And when I finally claim you and fill you completely, I will mark you inside and out, ruining you for any other man. You will know beyond a doubt that you belong to me and me alone. Is all this clear?”

”Yes Loki,” she said meekly. Part of her wanted to beg more, but she loved the way he had taken control. She was feeling sleepy now as well, and it would be more enjoyable for their first time truly together if she was more awake. A thought suddenly occurred to her. 

“My dreams,” she said, sitting up in his lap, “did you put them into my head?”

She knew that he was a talented sorcerer. Was his magic the reason that her nights had been filled with erotic scenes of them coming together in evermore intense coupling?

”You are clever, love, even when intoxicated. Let’s just say I gave your mind a little nudge in my direction. But the details were all your own. I look forward to hearing all of the naughty things you dreamed of my doing with you, so that I can make all of them come true.”

”Well, maybe not all of them,” she hedged with a giggle, remembering the rather public nature of some of the scenarios. 

“Each and every one,” he confirmed decidedly. “The more scandalous the better.”

Well then, she hoped the courtiers of Asgard were ready to be scandalized, she thought. She felt herself drifting into a doze and barely noticed as he rose, holding her in his arms, carried her to her rooms through quiet back hallways, tucked her in, and with a light kiss on her lips left to seek out his own bed.  

*****

Loki woke the next morning feeling invigorated and focused. He had tried to do the right thing and give up Kela, but it seemed she didn’t want to be given up. It had never been his first choice anyway, so he was more than happy to go back to his own nature and secure her as his own. 

He had left her a note on the pillow next to her last night, instructing her to remain in her rooms as much as possible that day. After last night, no one would question it if she claimed to be feeling ill. He would figure out a way to free her from her promise to marry Thor. 

He did, however, realize that his mother was right. He cared about her and did not want to be the cause of her ruin. He would just have to find a way to talk Thor into giving her up willingly. At this moment he was in such good humor with the world that he would even do his best to spare his brother any humiliation. He decided to seek out Frigga’s advice. She had been the one to point out the coil they were in, perhaps she would see a way out with minimal damage. He did not care so much for himself - he was used to people whispering about him behind his back and worse - but he would do what he could for her sake. 

When he arrived at Frigga’s chambers and stepped into the entry-room, he could hear her in the inner study. She was not alone then. Loki sat on the edge of a chair and prepared to wait impatiently for whoever was taking her time away to leave when he heard his brother’s booming voice. 

“Mother, you are imagining things,” Thor laughed. 

“I do not believe that I am,” came her calm reply. “Think on it my son. They spent a week together under very intense circumstances. Things like this can cause feelings to arise.”

Loki’s stomache dropped to his shoes as realized that the discussion within was obviously about him and Kela. He knew he should reveal his presence, but he wanted to hear his loving brother’s response. 

“Well, if my brother does have a little crush on my bride to be, what of it?” Thor laughed again. “She is beautiful, sweet, and shy. What man wouldn’t want her? But even with all of his crimes taken into account, I have never known Loki to take a maid unwilling.”

“I do not say that is what he would be doing,” Frigga counciled, only deepening Thor’s amusement. 

“Mother, I know Loki is your son and you love him, I love him too. But try to see him as he is, not tinged with a mother’s fondness. Do you really think a woman betrothed to me, poised to become queen of all nine realms, would be foolish enough to throw that away for Loki? Trust me, she is not so blind.”

Loki seethed inwardly. Was Thor right? Kela had agreed last night to be his, had thrown herself at him in fact. She had also been completely, spectacularly, drunk. What if in the cold light of day she changed her mind? If sober minded she preferred to be his brother’s queen? Had his arogance in waiting cost him his chance at her? Should he have taken her there as she had begged?

“Besides,” Thor was continuing inside, “I do not think my brother is grieving a broken heart. Fandral came upon him last night when he was, ah... looking for a quiet room to talk with a young maid. He saw Loki in the throne room with some wench, and from what Fandral said he looked quite happy to be... receiving her attentions.”

Loki’s eyes went round. So they had been seen. He had been so careless in his lust and need to feel her on him that he had not even bothered to lock the door. 

“Do you know who the maid was?” Frigga’s voice sounded on edge. 

“No, thats’s the humorous part. The woman’s erm... face was occupied, and he couldn’t eve see her hair, for Loki had placed his rediculous helmet on her head. The poor girl. We should find out who she is and give her a seat of honor at the wedding feast.”

Loki did not wait to hear more. Face flushed in anger he turned and left the room. 


	11. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware, this chapter has all the Loki angst and feels!

Kela woke to find an origami rose on the pillow next to her. As she picked it up it unfolded into a letter written in a neat, bold hand. 

_Princess,_

_I much enjoyed the song; I will be thinking of it all day. Stay close to your rooms today while I find a clever solution to extract you from the odious marriage arrangements to my oaf of a brother. After last night, no one will wonder if you are indisposed. Remember your promise and be in my rooms as soon as you have dined. You may want to try to sleep today, as I will allow you little rest tonight._

_Yours,_

_L_

_ps - I am flattered that you spend your nights under my cloak, but believe me, under my body will be better._

_Pps - no need to worry about an actual hangover - I take care of what belongs to me._

Groaning, Kela pulled a pillow over her head as the night came back to her. She had sang! To him, and in front of a room full of people! And then all but dared him to take her. Oh my, and had she really worn his helm while she... her humiliation knew no bounds. 

Reading over the letter once more she took a deep breath. Had she actually promised to go to him tonight? She couldn’t remember clearly. She had begged him to stay with her last night, that she knew. Was she brave enough to follow through, or was she the worst sort of tease?

She loved him, that much was obvious. Two days without him had been like days without water. His wit brought her alive and his wicked smile was her delight. She just wished she was as sure of his feelings for her. 

When it came down to it, though, she simply couldn’t marry a man when she was in love with his brother. There would be no way to avoid Loki, in large part because he was sure to di his best to make it impossible. Thor had been nothing but kind to her, and he deserved better than a wife who lusted day and night for his brother.

She would allow Loki to end her betrothal, cleverly, he had said, and she would offer herself to him as promised tonight. Even if he grew bored after, if all of this had been nothing more than a game, at least she would have the memory of him to sustain her.

She also took comfort in the line from his note, “I take care of what belongs to me.” Once more he was claiming her. He had done that last night as well. Perhaps, against all odds she had managed to capture more than just his passing fancy. Time would tell.

Resting was hopeless, she decided. Dressing in her most nondescript clothing she slipped out of her room and out of the palace. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it properly. Finding the market place she had been taken to days before, she began to hunt for just the right thing.

*****

Loki’s day was not improving. Slinking out of his Mother’s rooms, he walked down the hall and stopped at a door a short ways away. After debating a moment he pushed it open, walked past a guard, and entered Odin’s chamber. He had been avoiding coming here since his return, despite Frigga’s urging.

Looking down now at the sleeping form of the only father he’d ever known he felt a simmering cocktail of rage, hurt, and despair.

Why? He thought for the millionth time. Why could he not have been honest with Loki? Why build him up with lies all those years, while simultaneously breaking him down with unreachable expectations? All of Loki’s problems he could trace to Odin’s door.

“You were supposed to love me,” he whispered. “Why did you take me if you couldn’t love me?”

The sleeping man on the bed made no answer. Spinning on his heel Loki stormed out of the room, just barely holding the tears that filled his eyes back from falling. He would shed no more tears for Odin’s love. He had sworn it to himself.

So, visits to both of his “parents” had failed to suggest a way forward. He decided to go for a ride to clear his head. It almost worked. It should have. But on the way back in to the dinner hall he happened upon his brother’s cronies.

He had once thought Sif and the Warriors Three his friends as well. Now he realized they had only tolerated him out of deference to Thor. He hated them intensely.

“Ah Loki,” Fandral said with a smirk. “You will have to give me the name of the little whore you absconded with last night. From your reactions she must be quite skilled. I might want to give her a try myself.”

The sound Loki heard coming from his throat was more animal than human. He turned and shoved Fandral against the wall, holding his forearm across the blond man’s throat.

“Say that again and I will kill you,” he snarled.

Hogun and Volstag grabbed his arms and pilled him off their friend. Fandral immediately pulled a knife and held it between them.

“Leave it be, Fandral,” Volstag said sourly. “He never liked to share his toys. And better him finding a slut for sale than panting after Thor’s bride.”

“That’s enough,” Sif surprised Loki by speaking up in his defense. “If he wants to protect the lady in question, it reflects better on him than on you for taunting him about her.”

His eyes narrowed and he looked at her, trying to detect sarcasm but finding none. He allowed his muscles to ease slightly and the two warriors let go his arms. Fandral shrugged his shoulders and sheathed his knife.

“We were all better off with you in exile, trickster,” Fandral told him. Turning he stormed off, his friends following.

When they had vanished from view, Loki slid down the wall and sat on the ground, face in his hands. Was he so inherently unlovable then? His “friends” had always been false, his “father” lied to him his whole life. Even his “brother” who still claimed to love him found humor in the idea that anyone could desire him. Maybe they were all right.

Kela, he thought. Kela desired him. He knew she did. Focusing, he summoned the image in his mind of her last night, begging for him, declaring insistantly her willingness to be his.

She would be his. He would claim her tonight. She was all he neeeed anyway. But he would make sure that she would not leave him as everyone else had done. She would be his, and all of Asgard would know that there was one person in the nine realms who chose him.


	12. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, they have waited long enough. An entire chapter made up almost entirely of smutty goodness. Hope you enjoy.

Kela looked at herself in the full length mirror and almost changed her mind for the fifteenth time. Taking a calming breath, she steadied herself. The black corset was embroidered with vivid emerald green and gold thread. Green laces up the back cinched in her waist and lifted her breasts high, accentuating the hourglass of her shape. A short skirt of black and green tulle fell just low enough to cover her ass, and black sheer panties showed underneath when she bent even slightly. Her hair was piled up on her head and held in place by a long gold pin with a single emerald on the end that glittered in her blond curls. 

Steeling her courage, she took his cloak and wrapped it around herself, covering the outfit she had purchased this afternoon. She opened the door slightly and peered outside, checking to make sure the coast was clear. With the all of the royal apartments in this wing, as well as many of the upper nobility, she couldn’t be too careful. When she saw no one she slipped out, walked three doors down, and tapped lightly on his door. It opened almost instantly and Kela stepped into Loki’s room for the first time. 

The minute the doors closed behind her she was in his arms. His mouth swooped down to claim hers, almost desperately. The hunger in him brought out her own and they devoured each other. When he finally came up for air he burried his head in her hair and inhaled he scent.

“You came,” he breathed, and she realized that she had not been the only one nursing doubts. Somehow it gave her courage.

“Of course I came, my Lord,” she smiled at him. “I am yours.”

He took a deep breath and really looked at her for the first time. He grinned as he realized she was wrapped in his cloak. 

“I’m glad you are getting such good use of this, love” he said, rubbing the edge of the cloak between his fingers. “But perhaps we can do away with it for now.”

Stepping back Kela turned around, untied the neck, and allowed Loki to slide the cloack off her shoulders. She turned back and saw him toss it onto a chair. His breath hissed as he took her all in, eyes roaming from her jeweled hair to her heeled feet. 

“You would look lovely in rags, princess,” he rasped, “but tonight you are the most exquisit thing I have ever seen.”

As he walked slowly around her she felt deliciously on display. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms about her waist, pulling her back into him. She could feel his arousal pressing into the small of her back. His hands came up grabbed her breasts, kneading them until the left nipple popped out from the top of the corset. He fondled it in his left hand, rolling it into a peak between his thumb and finger, while his right hand tilted her head to the side. 

Leaning forward he sucked her earlobe into his mouth and she gave out a small moan. As his mouth moved slowly from her ear down her neck she shivered uncontrollably, goosebumps forming on her flesh. 

“So sensative,” he murmured, and then suddenly bit the curve between the base of her neck and her shoulder, squeezing her nipple hard at the same time. She cried out and arched back into him with her hips. “So responsive,” he purred. 

Moving to pull free her other nipple, he repeated the trail of kisses down the other side of her neck, this time placing a bite on the upper swell of her breast. She was very pale, and she knew she would be bruised tomorrow. She found it impossible to care. 

He turned her around and lowered his head to suckle her. His had dropped down and she felt it push up under her skirt, finding her soaked panties. He pulled back from her breast, smiled at her, and ripped the thin piece of lace off with one hard tug. She felt cool air hit her stared at him, breath coming rapidly.

“Sit,” he instructed, pointing to a low settee against the wall.

With a wave of his hand his shirt was gone and she was staring at his lean, muscled chest. She had seen it many times on their journey, had woken every morning resting atop it. But seeing him now, clad only in his tight leather pants while she sat before him, breasts offered up above her corset, nipples erect in the night air, she was suddenly shy. She ducked her head. 

“None of that,” he admonished her. “Look at me.”

She obeyed, and saw him standing before her, stroking himself through his pants. 

“Spread you legs for me,” he commanded. 

Blushing she slowly opened her knees. 

“Wider,” he purred, and once more she obeyed. “You were so delightful last night. So good with your mouth. Tell me, did you like tasting me? Feeling my hot seed pour down your throat?”

”Yes,” she whispered, feeling her blush deepen. 

“I thought so,” he smiled. “But now it’s my turn. Keep your legs open darling.”

He sank to his knees before her and ran his tongue lightly up her inner thigh. He nipped playfully with his teeth and blew over her wet slit. 

“You said you were mine,” he looked at her. 

“Yes,” she answered, finding it hard to breath. 

“So this is mine?” He asked, dragging one finger through her dampness. 

“Yes.”

”All this lovely, wet cunt is for me? Say it!” He stared intently into her eyes. 

“It is all for you. All of me is for you and only you.”

Growling he lowered his head thrust his tongue inside her, lapping at her core. She cried out and leaned back against the wall. He was amazingly skilled, and when he added his fingers, curving up inside her to find just the right spot while his tongue flicked over her clit it took shockingly little time to send her over the edge into intense waves of pleasure.

When she came down from her high he was sitting back on his heels smiling at her.

“That,” he grinned, “was a very nice appetizer. Shall we move to the bedroom for the main course?”

*****

He had been worried she wasn’t going to come. It was later than he had expected her, and he had paced his rooms, seriously considering breaking down her door to get to her. He was so glad he had restrained himself, for she was truly worth the wait.

Looking at her now head thrown back, eyes glazed with lust even as she blushed adorably, legs spread wide so she dripped onto his gold settee, red bite marks on her neck and large exposed breasts, she was was the very image of all his fantasies come to life.

”All of me is for you and you alone,” she had said, and the rush of heat through his blood has almost undone him. 

Scooping her up into his arms he carried her into his bedroom and threw her down onto her stomach on his large bed. He climbed on top of her and sat straddling her thighs, caressing her ass before sliding his hands up to the ties of her tightly laced corset. Slowly he untied it and pulled the lacing free. 

“When I first saw you in that tent,” he told her, “all I could think was that you were the perfect present, all tied up and waiting for me. And then that night I unwrapped my gift, but couldn’t properly play with it,” he added as the lacing slipped free of the last hole and he separated the fabric. He flipped her over so that she was lying on her back, naked to his eyes except for the little flounce of skirt. “I thought I was going to explode with wanting you.”

He ran his hands up her arms, pushing them so that they extended over her head, and lay down on top of her, kissing her long and deep. When he raised himself from her lips she gasped As she realized that he had tied her wrists together with the laces from her corset. Reaching up, he fastened the other end to his headboard. 

He grinned at her as she tugged at her wrists. She looked alarmed, but not unduly so. He slid his hands back down her body and pulled her skirt down and off. Standing up he tossed the skirt and corset heedlessly onto the floor and removed his pants, kicking them to the side. 

He stood there next to the bed, drinking in the site of her bound and naked. His hand stroked his massive erection as she squirmed under his gaze. He had pictured this so many times.

He climbed back on the bed and positioned himself between her legs. She brought her long limbs up around him and tilted up her hips to meet him. He rubbed the tip of his cock back and forth, circling her entrance but teasingly never quite landing on it. 

“Loki,” she whined beneath him.

”Yes?” he asked inoccently.

”Please,” she begged.

”Please what love?” He tormented her.

”Please take me,” she ground out, as he rubbed the head of hos cock on her clit.

He grinned in triumph.

”If you insist, love,” sighed, and sank himself inside her. “Oh Gods, Kela!” He moaned as she took him all in, “you are so fuckinh perfect!”

And she was. Her walls gripped him tight as he thrust into her. All of the stress of the day, the heartache that he had been feeling, melted away as he claimed her in the most primal way possible. As her breathing became ragged and she clenched harder around him he could feel his own climax coming. He had known the first time would not take long, but they had the whole night, their whole lives, to play.

”You. Are. Mine.” he grunted, thrusting hard with each word. 

“Looooooki,” she screamed out, and they came together. For the first time in his life, he felt as though he was home  

 


	13. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Kela have finally consummated their desire, but will it be enough for him? What about the wedding? And how will Thor take the news that he no longer has a willing bride?

She was amazingly happy. That was her first thought on waking. Sore, exhausted, but happy.

True to his word, Loki had barely let her rest. When they had recovered from their first go round, he had taken her achingly slow, all deep kisses and caressing hands. Then, not long after, he had grabbed her coming out of his washroom and had her hard and rough against the wall, fist pulling her head back by her hair as he left a trail of bite marks down her throat and chest. She had been so far gone herself that she had left a wealth of scratches, red and and bleeding, down his back. He hadn’t seemed to mind. The orgasm had been so intense that she clung to him to keep from collapsing. They had fallen onto the bed, still entangled, and fallen into a light doze.

It seemed now that he was awake again. She could feel his fingers lightly exploring her folds. Instinctively she opened her legs a bit more and heard him hum in appreciation. A long digit slowly dipped into her.

“Good morning, Princess,” he said, and she opened her eyes to see him, propped up on one hand, smiling at her lazily. He pulled his other hand away from her and held up his alarmingly wet fingers, dripping with the combined evidence of their coupling. “Someone’s been naughty.”

“That’s what happens when you get into bed with the God of Mischief,” she smiled saucily back at him, and saw his grin spread across his face.

Suddenly his words struck her.

“Did you say morning?” She asked, frantically.

“Indeed. Predawn, but not by much. I’m afraid we fucked most of the night away. You were insatiable.”

“It’s Saturday!” She said, panicked.

“It is. Why? Did you have something to do on Saturday?” he innocently sucked his fingers while watching her jaw drop.

She slapped his arm out from under him and tried to sit up. He reached up and pulled her back down on top of him.

“Relax. It is hours yet beforehand anyone will look for you,” he reassured her. “And just think what we could do with all that time.”

She looked at him, lounging naked on the large bed, arms behind his head, huge erection rising onto his stomach. She would never get enough of him. It was worth giving up the throne. Her family had lived without wealth before, they could do so again. She was not sure though, that she could live without him.

His lips curved as he seemed to sense the direction of her thoughts, and she blushed.

“I love how easily your blushes give you away,” he told her with a smug laugh. “Now, what could you possibly be thinking?”

“That I have found the most arrogant prince ever to be born,” she said, throwing a pillow at him.

“True,” he agreed, “ you did indeed. But then you had the good fortune of having me steel you away from him. Now come here and show me how grateful you can be.”

He grabbed her waist and brought her straddle him. She groaned and rubbed herself against his hardness. His arms moved back behind his head and he watched her through hooded eyes as she reached down and guided him into her.

She began to ride him, hands trailing over his chest. His eyes closed and he let out a contented sigh, but he made no move to help or participate.

“Loki,” she heard her voice come out as a whine.

He merely hummed softly.

“Are you paying attention?” She asked, her breathing was getting a bit ragged, but she needed more.

“If you want me to do something, love, you’ll have to ask. Use your words. Be specific. Creative would be nice, too,” the look he gave her was positively evil.

“Touch me,” she moaned. “Please, Loki, I need to feel your hands on me.”

“Ah,” he replied, bringing his hands up to cup her breasts. “You see, I obey you in all things.”

“I want you to fuck me. Hard. I want to feel every thrust to my very core,” she was loosing herself to it now, words spilling out of her as he began to buck up into her, his obscenely loud grunts and moans spurring her on. “I want you to stretch me with your magnificent cock. I want you to make me cum over and over, and to fill me inside with your hot seed until it runs dripping out of me. I want you to take me in every way imaginable. I want you make me yours. Loki, My Prince, my God, my King.”

Her last words sent them both over the edge, and she felt him shoot into her, hot and gushing, as they both cried out in pleasure.

She was just coming down, head falling onto his sweat drenched chest, when she heard the door to his rooms crash open.

“Loki,” boomed a well known voice excitedly, “I know you’re awake, you and your tart have woken the whole palace! Now get up and help me prepare, it’s my wedding day!”

Kela’s eyes went wide as her fiance came bounding into the room with a smile that died instantaneously as he saw her there, naked and impaled on his brother’s rapidly rehardening cock.

*****

She was all he could ever hope for. Passionate, responsive, an adorable combination of shy and adventurous. She had kept up with him all night, and lord new his libido was strong. Especially with her. He could spend his life just coming up with new and more deviant ways to have his way with her and consider it time well spent. The way she moaned his name was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

It had almost been enough to make him forget about the previous day. About the hurt he still felt looking at Odin, about the rage at his former companions for laughing at the idea of him panting in lust after her while she spurned all his advances, and about his deep resentment of Thor assuming that no woman could truly desire him. Kela's desire was so obvious, literally dripping from her, that it almost made it seem unimportant what anyone else believed. Almost.

Then he had said good morning to her, and seen the thoughts of Thor and the wedding come crashing back into her brain. He had told her that he would cleverly extricate her from all of that, and she had been foolish enough to believe him, but of course things had taken a different turn.  He had not told her that all of Asgard, the groom included, still believed that she would be marrying Thor today. What if she decided to go through with it after all? And so he would go through with his plan.

He heard the palace beginning to stir - he had preternaturally good hearing - and subtly lifted the spell he had surrounding his quarters. He valued his privacy, his secrets, greatly; normally the rooms he occupied would be sound proof. It took very little effort at all to reverse the spell, amplifying every sound, every word, every moan, to be heard in the corners of the wing they occupied. He had thought of extending it further, to the whole castle or even the city, but there was no need to go that far. Everyone who mattered would hear.

He had thought it all out perfectly. He lay back with his hands behind his head, lest no one who might come to investigate be able to mistake the situation for force or coercion. There was always the fear that she might not play along, but after the night that they had spent she was more than willing to open herself up and declare her wants and desire for him. It had been breathtakingly easy. Towards the end he had even forgotten the purpose behind his drawing her words out. Her voice was intoxicating, and hearing her call him her king had been the undoing of him. He had cum so hard that when his door burst open it had momentarily taken him completely by surprise.

Then he heard his brother's voice and he knew that he had won. They had been playing this game since childhood - Thor with his boundless energy in the early morning, Loki preferring the night and protesting his brother's lack of respect for his privacy. Of course on his wedding day he would seek out Loki at the earliest possible moment. And Loki had made sure that he knew, that all the upper echelon of Asgard knew, that the younger prince was awake and stirring. Of course Thor would burst into Loki's bedroom, as he had done so many times in the past.

To be confronted by the sight of his blushing bride, naked, bite marks scoring her body, tousled hair in wanton disarray, straddling and equally naked Loki, both still glowing and sweaty from their lovemaking. Really, it was perfect. Loki could feel himself getting hard again at the picture of sin they presented.

"What the Hel!" Thor bellowed, jaw hitting the floor. Kela shrieked, practically dove off of him and grabbed the sheet, attempting to cover herself. "Loki! Kela! What is the meaning of this?"

"I would think that would be rather obvious, even for you," Loki replied mildly, making no move to cover himself. "How many times, brother dear, do I have to ask you for a little privacy?"

"Those things we heard... the whole palace heard..." Thor stammered, looking back and forth between Loki, spread out naked and unabashed, and Kela cowering behind him, "it couldn't have been her!"

"Do you see anyone else here?" Loki asked.

"You have forced her! Bewitched her in some way!" Thor accused.

"Oh come now brother," Loki sat up, angry again, and faced his brother, magically conjuring pants. As an afterthought he also clothed Kela in a short green tunic. He did not need Thor ogling what was his. "Use your eyes. Did the lady look, or sound, coerced?"

"You have magic. How should I know."

"You poor, simple fool," he drawled. "Think of all those nights we spent together on the road. Why do you think I did not just bring her here directly? Because I love roughing it in the backwaters of Asgard so much? Do you really, truly, think that this is the first morning she has woken up in my bed, lovely head pressed against my naked chest, limbs tangled with my own?"

The best part was that he didn't even have to lie. Every word was absolute truth. He saw the realization his Thor, saw his brother put the pieces together in just the way Loki wanted him to.

"The maid in the throne room," his brother breathed, "one the Fandral saw in your helm doing... that to you. That was her?"

Loki smiled cruelly and nodded. 

"Kela was your whore."

Loki's dagger was in his hand and pointed at Thor's throat.

"I will tell you the same thing I told your lackey," he growled. "Call her that again and I will kill you where you stand."

"Why?" Thor asked, looking lost. "Why did you do this, brother? If you wanted her so desperately, I would have given her to you."

"SHE WAS NEVER YOURS TO GIVE!" Loki yelled at him, and threw himself at his brother, knocking him off the ground in his surprise. They rolled on the ground, fighting for the knife, punching and kicking each other as Kela screamed from the bed.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" came a shout from the doorway.

Loki looked up to see his mother, clad in a light blue dressing gown, silhouetted in the doorway. Her eyes took in the tawdry scene before her - her sons frozen on the floor mid battle, Kela kneeling in horror on the edge of Loki's bed, bare but for short tunic, and her face fell.

"Oh no, Kela," Frigga breathed, "you poor girl. Oh my sons. Loki, what have you done?"


	14. Awkward Situations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga tries to talk some sense into her sons. Will she be able to keep the peace in her family?  
> A shorter chapter, and free of smut, but it moves the story forward to the next beat.

It was amazing how quickly the ground could fall out from under your feet. One moment Kela was relaxed, almost giddy with happiness, freed from a union she didn't want and ready to start a relationship with a man she adored and trusted. The more fool she. It was obvious from the moment Thor bounded into the room that he still believed she wanted to marry him. Loki had never sought him out, never talked to him, never broken the engagement. He had let Kela believe that he would handle it all, and then used her to exact his revenge. 

When she realized that he had transmitted the sound of their lovemaking she was horrified. The things that she had said, that he had teased her into saying! She would never be able to hold her head up again. She had still been the betrothed of the King, and the whole court had heard her call out in lust for his brother. When Thor called her a whore, it was no more than she deserved.

Loki, however, seemed to feel differently. It was almost comical that he would leap to defend her honor, when he was the one who had put it at risk to begin with. But there he was, rolling on the floor with Thor, looking for all the world like they were trying to kill each other. 

And then her mortification was complete, for the All Mother was there, in the doorway, quickly taking in the scene and coming to the obvious, and correct, conclusions.

"Oh Kela, you poor girl," Frigga's voice was surprisingly compassionate. "Oh my sons. Loki, what have you done."

For a moment Kela thought that Frigga's magic must have frozen them, but then she realized that it was not a sorceress' power, but a mother's that held them in check. With a flourish, Loik disappeared the knife and rose off of his brother onto his knees.

"Good morning Mother," he said, as though he had not just been trying to gut his brother with a blade, "shouldn't you be in bed asleep?"

"I was asleep, Loki," she replied acerbically, "until your... performance woke me."

No, no, please tell her that the queen had not heard them! Kela wished the bed would swallow her.

"So sorry to disturb your rest," he did not sound the least apologetic.

"Mother this does not concern you," Thor stood, speaking for the first time.

"I beg to disagree. You are my sons, your behavior reflects on me. It is obvious that I have failed at some point raising you when you wake the whole palace and fight likes tavern brawlers. You are princes of Asgard! Behave like it!"

"He has bewitched my fiancé!" Thor accused, "and turned her into his own personal whore."

That was really the last straw for Kela. As Frigga put her hand on a snarling Loki's shoulder to restrain him Kela stood and found her voice.

"Your Majesties, forgive me, but I must speak," she said, addressing Frigga when she could not bring herself to look at Thor or Loki. "I am not bewitched. Neither am I a whore, Loki's or anyone else's. I am in love with him."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Loki's triumphant smile. Her fingers itched to slap it off his face.

"I am sorry, my lord," she continued, forcing herself to turn to Thor and bowing her head. "You did not deserve this. You honored me with your request for my hand and were never anything but kind to me. It was not my intention to hurt you or bring you shame. I tried to deny my feelings for your brother, but the heart cannot be ruled by the head. I wish it were otherwise, believe me. I came here tonight of my own free will. It is true that Loki and I have been... more free with each other than propriety dictates, but it was not until last night, when I believed our engagement had been ended, that our relationship was consummated. I profoundly wish now that I had had the courage to end things with you myself rather than take the cowards way out and trust someone else to do it for me. Now, if you will excuse me, I will retire to my rooms and pack for my trip home. I am deeply sorry for all the trouble I have caused you."

She curtsied, and with one last look of hurt betrayal at Loki ran from the room.

When she reached her suite she hurled herself onto her bed and burst into sobs. It had all been a game. Of course it had. He had used her to bring as much pain and public humiliation to Thor as possible. He never meant to break her engagement, or at least not until after he spun it to his advantage. She had been blind to think otherwise. She wished with all her heart she could hate him.

*****

Loki watched Kela run from the room with a frown. She had been magnificent defending him from Thor's accusation, and hearing her declare her love for him his heart had swelled. But then it had all gone wrong somehow. Why was she apologizing to Thor? True, he had not broken her engagement for her yesterday as he had promised, but it was obviously broken now, and in the grand scheme of things what was one day more or less? And what did she mean trip home? She was home! The only trip she should be making was from her rooms into his.

Then she had given him that parting look, and his heart stopped beating. There was so much hurt, so much anger and accusation in that one flash of her eyes that it almost brought him to his knees. 

"Oh my son," Frigga sighed again, looking at him with pity in his eyes. Of all expressions, he hated pity the most. "Thor, I would speak with your brother alone."

"Very well," Thor agreed. "I wish you well of it. I have nothing to say to him. Now or ever again."

When Thor had slammed the door to the suit behind him, Loki let Frigga draw him out into the sitting room. She took the large green arm chair and gestured him to sit on the gold settee. Remembering Kela spread out invitingly on it the night before, Loki lowered himself down. 

"You are going to have your work cut out for you making it up to that poor girl" Frigga sighed.

"I really don't understand why she's so upset," he replied. "she wanted out of her engagement and now she's out. It works out for everyone."

"It works out for you, you mean," his mother corrected him. "You humiliated her and broke her trust. That will take some time to win back, if you can do it at all."

"She said she loves me," he was still in awe of that, but he didn't want to let his mother see that. "If that's true, she'll get over it."

"If that's true? Do you have reason to think she would lie to you?"

"Everyone else has," he shrugged. "I don't see why she would be any different."

"My poor boy, what we have done to you," the sadness in her voice chipped at Loki's emotional armor, and he found pesky emotions rising to the surface. Ruthlessly he shoved them away.

"Don't fret, mother. You have made me stronger. I am no longer burdened by the weakness of sentiment."

"Sentiment is not weakness. I know you have a heart. I have seen it. I see it now when you look at Kela. If you don't want to loose her, you will let her see it."

"You think she will leave me," he ruthlessly shoved down the panic in his chest.

"You have given her no reason to stay."

"Oh, I don't know about that," he smiled, deliberately provoking her, "you heard her this morning. I think I have given her plenty of reason."

"Do not be crude, it is beneath you. Yes, you have proved your prowess in bed. Congratulations. Now prove your prowess as a man. Talk to her. Tell her how you feel. She is smart, compassionate, and she loves you. She could be the making of you, but if you drive her away out of pride or stubbornness, I fear she will take the last of your humanity with her. I would grieve that loss till the end of my days."

"I will take it under advisement," he sighed.

"That is all I ask," Frigga rose and so he did as well. "Now, I have to go console your brother. You have hurt him as well. You have no idea how happy he was to have you back."

She kissed his cheek and left, closing the door behind her.

Loki collapsed back on the settee. Was she right? Had he mishandled the situation? Surely Kela wouldn't leave him now - she had no where to go! He had made sure of it. She would calm down and realize that he had done it for them, wouldn't she? Suddenly he was not so sure. Damnation! He would talk to her, and one way or another she would stay with him. Now that he had her, he refused to let her go.

 

 


	15. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki tries to explain his actions to Kela, but of course no one really expects him to take any blame upon himself, do they?
> 
> Thor makes a surprising decision that will change everything.

In light of everything, Loki thought it prudent to give her a bit of time to calm down. He bathed, taking longer even than usual with his catlike fastidiousness, and straightened his chambers after the excitement of the past few hours. When he deemed sufficient time had passed for reason to set in he walked down the hall and knocked on her door. 

“Go away!” She yelled through the door. 

“Kela, darling, it’s only I,” he tried to make his voice as reassuring as possible. Of course she would not want to face his brother or any of the petty court functionaries. He could understand that. 

“I know,” her voice snapped. “Leave me alone!”

”Princess, don’t be ridiculous, we need to talk.”

”I am not a princess! And now that you have made sure that I never will be your work here is done. Please, leave me alone!”

”I have made sure you will never be Thor’s princess, as I promissed to do,” he corrected. “There is more than one prince in the realm, if you remember.”

He heard something loud crash against the door. Really, this was getting out of hand. And there was no telling when someone would come this way. Yelling through doors was not exactly in keeping with his dignity. 

“Kela, you owe me a forfeit!” He seized at the idea. “I am claiming it now. Open the door and talk to me!”

There was a pause and then the door was pulled open with such force he feared it would come off its hinges. Kela stood before him, still in the tunic he had conjured, eyes red, puffy, and glaring at him. 

“We both know you cheated,” she growled at him. 

“Are you welching on out bet?” He asked silkily. 

“The door is open, talk.”

”Perhaps a bit more privacy is warrented?” He suggested mildly. “It is a busy time of day.”

”Oh, now you are concerned with privacy,” she sneered, but she stood aside and let him enter. 

Her travel bag sat open on a table and she was obviously in the process of packing. What was she thinking?

”Darling,” he tried to make his voice as reasonable as possible, “don’t you think you are overreacting? The wedding is off, after all. You should be thanking me.”

Perhaps in retrospect that had been pushing things a bit too far. He ducked as a shoe flew at his head. 

“Thanking you? For humiliating me before the entire palace?”

“So, being with me is humiliating for you, is it?” Now it was his turn to become angry. 

“Having the entire castle hear the intimate details of our tryst was, yes!”

”Tryst?” He pounced on the word. “I see.”

”I was still engaged to your brother!”

”And perhaps wish you still were now?” He demanded. 

“How can you ask that?” She laughed without humor. “I came to you! I gave myself to you! I told you I wanted you!”

”As a dirty little secret,” he latched onto his defensive anger as a way to deflect from the hurt in her eyes. “So I am just the animal, the monster, to meant to satisfy your baser urges in the dark? Not good enough to be seen by your side in daylight?”

“What are you talking about?” She ran a hand through her disheveled hair in angry frustration. “There is a difference between being seen by your side and being heard in your bed!”

”Perhaps if you crawl back to Thor and claim to have been bewitched he will still have you!”

”GET OUT!”

She wrenched the door open on a very startled looking palace guard, just raising his hand to knock. From the way his face blushed red he had obviously been in the royal wing that morning. 

“A missive for you, your highness,” he mumbled, “from King Thor. He said if you weren’t in your chambers to seek you out here.”

Loki snatched the letter out the guard’s hand and waved dismissal, his anger dissipating. He walked over to sit in an empty chair and scanned the page, his breath catching as he read. 

“Well,” he said, looking up at Kela when he had read it through again. “This puta things in a new prespective. You need to make yourself ready, darling, for an audience in the throne room in an hours time.”

”No,” she breathed, face blanching. 

“One does not refuse a direct order from the king.”

”What does Thor want with me?” She asked, eyes full of dread. 

“Not Thor,” he corrected, stading up and holding the letter out to her as smile spreading slowly over his face. “Thor is no longer the king.”

***

Kela was so angry she could barely see straight. It was bad enough that she had been publicly humiliated, that she had let down her family and her people to chase after a passion for someone who obviously didn't care for her feelings, but now he was trying to twist things so that she was the guilty party! She knew she should not engage him, should meet his accusation with a stony silence, but she could not seem to help herself. She wanted to fight with him, to shout back and defend herself. The fact that she also wanted to grab him by the hair and pull him down onto her bed was a thought that she refused to acknowledge. Damn him for looking so regal and polished after the night and morning they had just been through, when she knew herself to be red eyed and puffy faced. Throwing him out was the only solution.

She sunk further into embarrassment, if that was even possible, as she watched the red faced guard ogle her out of the corner of his eye. It was obvious that he had heard them. Well, who hadn't? She felt as if she were naked, which wasn't far from the truth as she was still clad in only Loki's illusion of a green shirt. She had tried to take it off upon returning to her rooms, but since it existed only as a projection of his creation she was unable to. It was one more reason she wanted to punch him in his perfect, beautiful, face.

"You need to make yourself ready, darling," he told her after reading the letter, "for an audience in the throne room in an hours time."

"No," she breathed, her stomach dropping to the floor. She couldn't do it. She could not face everyone knowing they had been privy to her most intimate moments.

"One does not refuse a direct order from the king."

"What does Thor want with me?" she asked. She knew at some points in time a woman, be she wife, betrothed, or concubine, who was unfaithful to a king would be accused of treason and tried for her crimes. Surely Thor would not be so archaic as to follow those old laws? Perhaps it was just public humiliation that he wished her to suffer through. But that would mean his humiliation as well. What was he thinking?

"Not Thor," Loki said, "Thor is no longer the king."

What did he mean by that? Was Odin awake? A sudden, unwelcome fear struck her for Loki. Would Odin undo Thor's pardon of him? Did this mean Loki would become an exile again, or worse be sentenced to death? She was furious at him, but she didn't want him to die.

Hands shaking, she took the  letter from Loki's hand and read its contents

_Loki,_

_I never wished for the crown, nor did I seek this marriage. The one was forced on me by the order of birth, the other arranged for me by councilors when my own choice forsook me. It is a cruel irony that those things which it seems you wish for the most were given arbitrarily to me._

_I will never forgive the manner you chose to reveal your true feelings for Kela to me, but I understand the impulse to do whatever it takes to be with the one you love. I am going now to Midgard, to try and do just that. If I am luckier than I deserve, Jane will take me back. If not, at least I will be where no one knows of my shame._

_It is all yours now, brother. Asgard, Kela, everything you always wanted and envied me for. I, Thor, Odinson, abdicate my throne in favor of my brother, Loki. May you endeavor to be worthy of it._

_Another letter has been delivered to the High Council of Asgard, so that they know my will. May the Norns guide your rule._

_Thor, Odinson_

Kela read the letter again, still not comprehending the contents.

"Are you just going to stand there, princess," Loki asked. "You are not going to curtsy to your new King?"

She looked at him in disbelief. His eyes gleamed with excitement and his teeth were bared in something that was not quite a smile. In that moment she was almost afraid of him. Numbly she sank into a curtsy.

"You must prepare yourself, love," he told her, "I am to address the court in an hour's time, and I want you by my side."

"What? Why?"

"Is it not obvious?" he asked. "You are mine. As of this morning, you are consort to the king."

She started laughing, she couldn't help herself. It started small but became hysterical very shortly. Soon she was sitting on the floor, head in her hands, not sure whether the sobs coming out of her were laughter or tears.

"I can not stand before all of Asgard," she gasped between sobs. "I can not even take off this damn shirt!"

She saw his eyes widen with realization. "My pleasure," he murmured, and then he waved his had and the illusion vanished, leaving her sitting naked on the floor. She watched his eyes run over her body hungrily, as though he had not just spent an entire night exploring it.

"As much as I hate to leave you, I am afraid I must for the moment," he told her. "I have much to prepare. I will be back in an hours time to escort you to the throne room. I cannot wait to show you off to all of Asgard as mine."

He leaned down and kissed her mouth, hands roaming over her as he did so. She hated the way her traitorous body responded to his touch. 

"Until then, my lady," he smiled and left her room. 

Still, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.


	16. King Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kela and Loki must fave the assembled nobility of Asgard as he claims the throne.

Kela sat in the middle of her bed, every article of clothing that she had brought with her, as well as the large number of gowns that had been made since she arrived were strewn across her room. She had allowed Anya, the maid who had been assigned to her by the queen on her arrival, to do her hair and light makeup, and to help her into a plain, flesh colored corset - not, most  _definitely not_ \- the green and gold confection of a corset she had purchased yesterday for Loki. She was at a loss as to what to do next. She could not wear any of these dresses for her upcoming “audience”. 

“Please, my lady!” The young girl implored her. “Prince Loki... that is... the King... he insisted I have you ready upon his return. How about this one? It’s simply lovely!”

She held up a blue off the shoulder gown with scroll work embroidery. It was one of Kela’s favorites from home. 

“I cannot wear that,” she shook her head. 

“But you must wear something!”

”Fine!” Kela took pity on the girl’s obvious distress. It was not Anya’s fault she served a mistress who had been rendered a trollop by her own actions. And Kela was not sure Loki was above punishing a servant for Kela’s stubborness. “I’ll wear this.”

Kela grabbed a high necked red velvet gown, clearly intended for winter weather. A belt of silver cinched in her waist and silver trimmed the neck and hem as well. She had just finished adjusting it when a light wrap at the door preceded Loki’s entrance. Apparently kings didn’t need to wait for permission, she thought waspishly. 

It was simply not fair how elegant he looked. Tall and sleek like some sort of lethal, untamed cat, his dark hair held back by a golden circlet version of his helm that left the raven tresses more visible.  His formal armor fit him within an inch of his life, showing off all of the lean muscles she knew so well, the gold accents and green cape lent a majesty to the ensemble that he carried off with ease. She felt her knees weaken as she looked at him. Why did Thor have to abdicate, leaving him king? Why couldn't they just have disappeared together, adventuring across the countryside until the scandal had died down? She had been angry with him, yes. Furious, in fact. But looking at him now she knew that she would have forgiven him. She feared she would forgive him anything.

“Are you ready my darling,” he asked with a smile, then stared at her as the smile dropped from his face.

“Leave us,” he snapped to the maid, who scurried out as fast as her legs would take her, closing the door behind her. 

“What,” he asked, circling Kela and looking her up and down, “are you wearing?”

”A dress,” she answered, unhelpfully. 

“Yes, I can see that,” he said in a dangerously quiet voice. “In Thor’s colors.”

Of course. It hadn't even occurred to her, but of course it would be the first thing he saw. Her anger returned.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” she sniped. “When the tailors were making my formal wardrobe I forgot to tell them that I would also need a second set of dresses made up in green and gold for my official role as Mistress to the King’s Brother.”

She watched him pull in a deep breath. She could practically hear the words he was holding back reminding her that he was the king and not Thor. 

“Perhaps something you brought with you,” he ground out. 

“They are summer dresses,” she answered him. “I cannot wear any of them.”

”It is summer!”

”I cannot wear them!”

”Well you cannot wear that!” he insisted. “Take that monstrosity off your body! I will have all the dresses that were made this week in red given to the poor.”

”Yes, what poor woman doesn’t need a ball gown or two?” She grumbled. But she pulled the offending red dress over her head. “Look at me,” She complained, standing before him in her corset and underwear. 

“I am looking,” he assured her, as his eyes devoured her form. “And if we did not have pressing business before us I would be doing much more than that. 

“Loki,” she pleaded, letting her anger go for a moment in desperation, "I cannot go before all the court like this!”

”I tend to agree, love,” he purred, running a hand down her neck and over the swell of her brests. “It would really not be fair to the guards and lordlings when I killed them for leering at you if you were to give them such blatant provocation.”

”The marks, Loki,” she ground out between her teeth. “I am covered in them.” 

It was true. When Anya had arrived to help Kela prepare the girl’s eyes had gone wide as saucers looking at Kela’s skin. A quick glace into the mirror had shown Kela why. She had always been very pale and quick to bruise, and now her neck, shoulders, and chest were simply covered in bruises and and in some cases visable teeth marks. With the current court fashion of low necklines and pressed up bossoms, almost everyone of them would be on display, framed like a portrait. 

“Is that all that’s bothering you love?” Loki grinned. “But I think they look lovely. And what higher symbol of status could you desire than proof of the King's affection? I told you that intended to mark you inside and out. These are the simply the outer markings for the rest of the world to see. The inner markings, of course, are for you alone. You do still feel those, don’t you, darling? I will reinforce them tonight if you like.”

”Please get rid of them,” she begged. “You can illusion them away.”

”So you are ashamed to be mine,” he accused.

And we were back to this again. 

“I am embarrassed to be a public spectacle! Please, will you remove them?”

”I will not,” he replied. “But you have given me an idea.”

Kela saw a soft green glow surround her. Glancing down she saw a tight green bodice sitting low over her décolletage, picked out with gold flowers. A gold belt in the form of a serpant eating its tail accentuated her waist over a long green skirt. A look into the mirror confirmed that far from hiding her marks, the dress seemed to be designed to highlight them. 

“Perfect,” he said smugly.

”It’s not a real dress!” She cried. 

“No one will know that but us. And really, darling, isn’t there something delicious in knowing that you will be standing in front of the assembled might of Asgard in only your knickers?”

She stared at him with her jaw on the floor. He was insane. That was the only explanation.

“And now, my love,” he took her arm and pulled it through his, “shall we be going?”

*** 

He was really quite pleased with himself. He had not thought beyond securing Kela as his and, if he were honest, striking a blow to his brother's ego with last night's work. But now, here he was. King of Asgard, as it was meant to be. True, Odin still lurked in the background, slumbering fitfully, but for now Loki was where he had always wanted to be. He would smooth things over with Kela, and all would be right with his world.

He had a moment of anger when he saw Kela wearing the red dress, but he could afford to be magnanimous.

When she removed it and stood before him in her intimates, he almost forgot the mass of people assembled and waiting for him. As it was he could not resist the urge to touch her soft skin. He felt her pulse quicken at her throat and smiled. She may be angry with him, but she still thrilled to his touch, and now all of Asgard knew it he would not allow her to cover up the proof of their passion.

The idea of clothing her in his illusion appealed to him greatly. Not only could he fashion a look perfectly suited to his concubine, but he had the knowledge that he could make it disappear with a flick of his finger. Indeed, to his eyes the dress was translucent, allowing him to see her shapely legs and even more of her lush breasts.

”You know,” he suggested wickedly as he pulled her out of her chambers, “if the dress really is not to your liking...”

For just a moment he let the illusion waver and heard her gasped as she stood  in the hallway in just her underthings. Before their escort could turn to see what was wrong he had it back in place, laughing at the adorable panic on her face.

”Relax, love,” he chuckled. “What is under the illusion is for my eyes alone. I have no desire to share.”

”You may find this all humorous, my lord,” she whispered in a hiss, “but keep it up and you will become the first king to be assassinated before the first day of his reign is over.”

He laughed again, enjoying spirit. He was glad that his elevation to the throne had not changed her behavior towards him. Oh, he would demand obedience, of course, but he never wanted her to lose that inner fire that was so much a part of her.

He had considered marrying her that day, after all the wheels were set in motion for a royal wedding, why waste all the preparation? But Frigga had pointed out how that might appear as though he were nothing but a last minute substitute for a missing Thor, and place all of the attention on the prince who was absent. He knew she was manipulating him to get him to delay, but she was not wrong. He would plan his own ceremony, and it would far eclipse the one that should have taken place today. For one thing, the bride would be much more eager. Not that he planned to wait before moving her into his chambers and, more importantly, his bed. His mind was already straying from the tasks of the day to the pleasures that awaited him that night.

As they entered the throne room he could feel the tension as all eyes turned towards them. The expressions were not particularly friendly. Kela in particular seemed to be the recipient of many hard stares.  Many of the men seemed to eye her with a newfound lust in their eyes, surreptitiously taking in her curves and the love bites marking her cleavage. Well let them look their fill, and know that he was the one to master her. He would kill the man who tried to do more than gaze. Then there were those, mostly women it seemed, who smirked whispered behind their hands when Loki and Kela passed. The rest fell into two camps the ones who looked at the two of them with open contempt, and those who couldn’t bring themselves to look at them at all. Peasants and slaves, all of them. He was glad to see that despite her unease with the situation, Kela was standing tall and proud, not deigning to acknowledge with look or gesture that she was aware of the scrutiny. 

As he climbed the steps to the throne, Loki glanced from Kela to the place she had kneeled so wantonly only two nights before. He raised an eyebrow and saw her blush red and glare at him before dropping her hand from his arm, sinking into a low curtsy, and moving to join Frigga to one side at the foot of the steps to the throne.

When he had reached the top step, Loki turned and laid one finger to his lips. He ad always thought it a greater sign of power to quiet a crowd this way, rather than bellowing as Odin or Thor were wont to do. He was rewarded now with the complete hush that fell over the room.

”My people,” he spoke in a carrying voice, “as many of you have heard, Thor has abandoned you. Odin All Father remains in his slumber. Asgard and the Nine Realms stand without a protector. And so, it is with great humility that I, Loki, Son of Odin, assume the mantal of King, in accordance with the wishes of my brother. Let us work together to usher in a new era of peace and prosperity.” 

Reaching out, he grasped gungnir in his hand and lowered himself onto the throne.

There was a moment of total silence, followed by a growing whispered chatter, until Frigga, raising a sardonic eyebrow at him for his speech, walked forward and knelt before him.

”All hail King Loki,” she said clearly for all to hear.

As he raised her up she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

”With great humility? May the Norns help you, my son,” she whispered for his ear alone.

 

 


	17. A Discussion of Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kela is done with Loki and his arbitrary decision making. What will she do to regain control over the situation?
> 
> Some more smut at the end!

If Kela did not get out of the throne room soon she was going to explode. It was bad enough to be paraded in like a trophy, covered in the proof of her guilt, but to then have to circulate among the tittering, whispering throngs? It was torture. She was reminded of a work of Midgardian fiction she had once read where a woman was forced to wear a scarlet A on her chest to symbolize her adultery. 

Frigga had been a blessing in the beginning. After the court had one by one stepped forward to swear fealty to Loki, the Queen Mother had taken Kela's arm and strolled with her through the hall, staring pointedly at any who dared to openly sneer at her. She was doing her best, Kela knew, to cloak her in borrowed respectability. But Kela could not hide behind Frigga's skirts forever, and eventually the Queen was called away. A steady chorus of "whore" and "slut" seemed to be whispered where ever she went, but always when her eyes were elsewhere, so that she could not prove who had spoken. Almost worse were the men who brazenly stared down her cleavage and undressed her with their eyes. One man, as old as father, even went so far as to lick his lips while ogling her. It was the only time she wished Loki were beside her. The old man would have cause to regret his blatant disrespect were the King to see that.

Mostly, though, she was glad he kept to a distance. She was not entirely sure she would be able to keep her hands from strangling him if he should draw too near. The events of the past day, from the unsuspected broadcast to the illusion of a dress, demanded retribution.

She had found a hiding spot in small alcove to the side of the room and was marshalling her defenses when a smooth hand reached out and gripped her own.

"My lady Kela," Fandral smiled, bowing to kiss her hand. "you look positively ravished - that is to say, ravishing."

"Thank you, my lord," she replied coldly. She had never warmed to this friend of Thor's. He was far too oily for her tastes. Knowing that he was the one who had caught out the late night tryst she and Loki had shared had made her skin crawl.

"We seem destined to be in this room at the same time," he said, as though tracking her thoughts. "Perhaps we could contrive to be so more privately in the future. I know you have a fondness for it. I am sure I could develop one as well."

Kela snatched her hand back from his over friendly grasp.

"If you value your life, my lord, you will refrain from making such comments in the future," she seethed at him.

"Oh, I am not afraid of Loki."

"I made no mention of _King_ Loki," she replied, glaring. "I need no one else to defend my honor."

"Your honor madam?" he laughed. "Isn't it a little late for that?"

Her hand shot out and slapped him across the face. He smiled and touched his fingers to his cheek.

"Is there a problem here?" a deceptively quiet voice purred from behind her.

Kela turned to see that Loki had sauntered over, eyes hard as he looked at Fandral.

"Not at all... your majesty," Fandral replied, hesitating just long enough on the title to be insulting. Loki ignored him and turned to Kela.

"My love?" he asked.

"No, your majesty, though I do find that I am a bit tired. As you know, I did not get much sleep last night." Looking up Kela gave Loki her most melting smile. If the court wanted a whore, far be it from her to deprive them. "May I have your leave to withdraw to my chambers? I want to be well rested for the feasting tonight."

"Of course, darling," he replied, still ignoring Fandral as he turned and led her towards the door. When they were out of earshot he looked at her again. "Is all well with you?"

"What do you think?" she snapped, keeping her smile plastered to her face. She thought of telling him about Fandral's proposition, but decided that the resulting bloodshed would be too much for her to live with on her conscience.  

"You were wonderful this morning, my love," he told her. "I could not have been prouder to have you by my side. You will be the most magnificent queen that Asgard has ever known."

Kela's eyes went wide. Queen? What was he talking about? After this morning, and the humiliation he had put her through, did he really just take for granted that was to become his queen? She had thought Thor was arrogant, but it seemed that Loki was attempting to best his brother once again.

Numbly she allowed to him kiss her cheek, smiling her public smile, all the while screaming inside.

"Don't worry about the dress, love," he whispered in her ear, grinning. "I have enchanted it so that the moment you cross the threshold to your rooms it will vanish, and reappear again the moment you step back out into the hall."

"Well," she said, narrowing her eyes at him, "it seems you have thought of everything your majesty."

Judging by his smirk, Loki completely missed the hint of danger in Kela's voice. Curtsying to him once more she slipped out of the room, grinding her teeth as with a flick of his eyes he sent a pair of guards to escort her. She noticed that both of them kept their eyes firmly on the floor in front of them. It seemed they knew better than to look openly at the king's property. She drew a deep breath to keep from screaming until she had slammed the door to her room on them. 

Kela looked down as her dress vanished from sight. Oh, he was too smug by far. She could not, she  _would not_ let him get away with it. Sitting down on the bed Kela reached for her small lute. She thought better when she played, giving her hands something to occupy them, and she needed to think now. One way or another, she would bring the proud king to heel. 

*****

It had been a gratifying day, but Loki was tiring of the fools that swarmed the court and anxious to retire to his rooms with Kela. She seemed to have come alive since her afternoon retreat to her chambers. Her eyes sparkled and her musical laugh could be heard in every corner of the banquet hall. She was seated down the table a bit from him - as it was a formal occasion, order of precedence needed to be adhered to. That would be corrected once they were officially joined, and he knew he would have her all to himself soon.

It was amusing how many women had taken her distance as an opportunity to approach him. Now that he was king, it seemed that he had suddenly become a desirable catch. One wench had even gone so far as to suggest that she had always suspected that the younger Odinson was capable of reducing women to such lascivious cries. She left no doubt that should he want to test his abilities on a new partner, she would be more than willing to volunteer. He grinned and glanced down to see if Kela was by any chance watching her simper over him, but she was preoccupied laughing at a tale being told by a lordling sitting next to her. Loki's grin lessoned a bit.

Finally the interminable dinner came to an end and he rose and walked over to where she sat.

"My lady," he smiled at her, "shall we retire?"

"Of course, your majesty," she nodded graciously, standing and taking his hand. 

They walked in silence to the royal wing. Loki tried to maintain his buoyant mood, but something was setting him on edge. He looked at Kela searchingly, but she simply smiled and waited for him to open his door.

Once he closed the door behind them her dress vanished, leaving her in her in corset and panties. He grinned in appreciation as she sat down casually in the green armchair.

"That went well," he said, pouring them each a glass of wine. "Tedious, of course, but it had to be done. At least we won't have to go through anything like it again until the wedding."

"What wedding would that be?" she asked casually, accepting the wine and sipping it delicately. 

"Our wedding," he had thought that it would be obvious.

"You are getting married my lord?" she sounded surprised. "I hope that your bride will be understanding of our relationship."

Setting her wine on a side table she untied the front of her corset and began loosening the laces.

"I had thought it was clear, darling," he said, confusion clouding his brow, "that you were the bride."

"Oh, I don't think so," she laughed, continuing to unlace herself.

"Kela," his voice took on an edge, "this is no matter for jest. You know you will be my queen."

"But you have never asked me, your majesty," she pointed out logically.

Ah, so that was it. Of course. All women dreamed of the proposal, he supposed. He could give her that, she deserved no less.

"Lady Kela," he asked, dropping to one knee and claiming her hand, "would you do me the honor of being my queen?"

"Hmm..." she tilted her head to the side. "No, my lord. I do not think I will. But thank you for honoring me with your request."

"Kela, what in the Nine Realms are you on about? Of course you will marry me!"

"Do you think so? You'll find you're mistaken."

"I am trying to make you queen!"

"I don't want to be queen," she had finished on the laces and pulled off the corset. He stared her as she lounged, mostly naked, in his chair.

"You were willing to be Thor's queen," he accused her.

"Yes, but you and Thor are very different men. There were things after all, you will remember, that I was willing to do with you that I was not willing to do with Thor. So are there things I was willing to do with him that I will not with you."

What was she on about? Was she drunk? He was fairly certain she hadn't drunk more than a cup of wine with dinner. And he knew first hand that drink tended to make her more accommodating, not less.

"You don't want to be with me?" he asked, trying to clarify. It was hard to think straight with her hand playing with a curl that had fallen over her bare shoulder.

"I don't want to  _marry you_ " she specified.

"But you're sitting naked in my rooms!"

"Well, yes," she replied, eyes wide and innocent. "I didn't say I wouldn't bed you. You are quite skilled as a lover, your majesty. Why should I deny myself the pleasure you can give me, especially as all of Asgard knows I desire. you. Just not necessarily as a husband."

"You said you loved me!" he must be loosing his mind. Or she had lost hers one or the other. This conversation could not be happening.

"Did I?" she asked, "Hm. Well, be that as it may, I certainly never said I trusted you. Now, are you going to come here and ravish me?"

He watched her open mouthed as her hand drifted down her body in a slow caress.

"No!" he said. "Not until you agree to marry me."

"Oh dear," she bit her lower lip. "I suppose I'll just have to take care of it myself then."

His eyes went wide as her roaming hand dipped beneath the waistband of he panties.

"I am the king!" he said loudly as his cock, already standing at attention, grew painful beneath this trousers. "I command you"

"You can try. You can threaten me, lock me in the dungeon, but you can not make me say my vows. And do you really want a queen you have to keep chained to the throne?"

"Careful my dear," his voice was silky, "you have no idea how appealing an image that is to me at his moment."

Kela merely shrugged, and slid her panties down to her ankle. With a dainty kick of her foot she tossed them in his direction, then lifted one leg and hooked it over an arm of the chair.

"Are you really not going to have me, Loki?" she asked with a small moan, fingering herself while he watched, dry mouthed, "you can see how wet I am for you after all."

Growling with lust he reached down and yanked her out of the chair and hard against him. Pulling her head back by the hair he claimed her mouth, dominating her with his tongue while his free hand gripped her ass and pressed her into him. Spinning her around he bent her over the table and with a wave rid himself of his clothing. He reached down between them with one hand and parted her thighs. She was, indeed, sinfully wet. Positioning himself he entered her with one hard thrust, hearing her moan beneath him. Her hips pressed back against him as he began rocking into her, taking her hard and fast. His hand reached down to cup her breast while the other dug into her hip, pulling her back harder onto his pounding cock. He could feel her breathing become more rapid as she coiled beneath him, and he moved his hand down from her breast to play with her clit. She cried out as she came around him, drenching him in her slick juices. A few more thrusts and his own climax hit as he grunted swore, filling her with his seed. Panting, he lowered his upper body down on top of hers and kissed the nape of her neck, making her shiver.

"You will marry me Kela," he told her. "No matter what it takes."

"Well then my lord," she responded, voice breathless with momentarily sated desire, "I suppose you will have to woo me."


	18. Power Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kela continues with her plan to bring Loki to his knees, with a little help from Frigga and a new friend.

Things were not going as Loki had expected. True, he was king, as he was always meant to be, but he was not at ease on the throne. Everywhere he went there were whispers, of course. He expected that. It had been that way his whole life. 

No, it was Kela that was setting his teeth on edge. He could not shake the feeling that she was laughing at him.

True to her word she did not absent herself from his bed. Indeed, she was very enthusiastic in their lovemaking, greedily taking everything he chose to give her. Her tight cunt and sweet mouth both brought him to completion, and she cried out in her own pleasure multiple times each night as he drove into her, trying to carve a permanent claim on her.

The problem came when they had finished. Sweaty and sated, he lay on his bed while she rose with efficient nonchalance and slipped her dress over her head, not bothering with her underthings.

”It’s only a few doors down after all,” she had shrugged that first night.

She then proceeded to place a light kiss on his forehead, thank him for a lovely evening, and walk out the door. He was beside himself.

And so it followed every day. He would see her about the court, laughing with some courtier or another, deep in discussion with eyes lit and mind engaged, but to him she gave only polite smiles and dismissive deference. At night she would slip into his rooms and out of her clothes, but refused to stay when they were done. And she would not even discuss marriage.

He thought about calling her bluff, about locking his door to her and letting her stew in her lust until she submitted, never mind how much he ached to be inside of her. Almost he went through with this plan, until he saw her sitting with the young lordling from the coronation banquet.

The tall idiot was obviously besotted, and of course, true to her nature, Kela would not see it. Still, the way the man laughed with her and found excuses to touch her hand was not lost on Loki. If Loki denied her, who was to say he would not be pushing her into the young fool’s bed.

”They make a handsome couple,” a voice next to him remarked. Loki turned, ready to kill, until he saw his mother. He supressed his violent impulses and merely growled in response.

”Jealousy is not an attractive emotion, Loki,” Frigga chided him.

”Jealous?” He scoffed, “I am the king. Who should I be jealous of?”

”Morin is intelligent, kind, wealthy, young and handsome,” she said, indicating Kela’s companion. “And he is not given to scheming or violent outbursts. She could do worse.” 

“Or much, much better,” he countered.

Looking down he glared at Morin until the man noticed his stare and made a hasty retreat, bowing over Kela’s hand. Smart man. 

“Kela is destined to be a queen,” he opined. “She would not throw herself away on a nobody.”

 “You don’t think she deserves to be wooed?” she asked, and he narrowed his eyes as she mirrored Kela’s words exactly. Was there a conspiracy between the two? 

“I already proposed, what more does she want?”

“Have you tried romance?” Frigga suggested.

”I am hardly one for hearts and flowers,” he curled his lip.

”What a shame,” Frigga sighed. “Did you know Morin writes poetry? I hear he’s quite good. The young maidens all swoon when he recites it. But I’m sure Kela has no fondness for verses.”

Did his mother want him to kill the younger man? Against his will he remembered reciting poetry with Kela in their rooms in various shabby inns. How she had smiled brightly up at him as he used the lines and his low, smooth voice to seduce her. Was that what was happening now with the boy?

”I will end him,” he snarled.

”The young man is under my protection,” she warned him. “He is my sister’s youngest, your cousin if you took the time to care.”

”I was never one for family sentiment. I have had enough family to last me a lifetime.”

“Let me put it to you this way then,” Frigga looked at him in the eye, “I can guarantee you that if you harm him Kela will never have you. He and his friends have been kind to her when the rest of Asgard shunned her for your actions. Think long and hard before you act against him.”

Loki hated it when other people were right. He would have to think of another way.

***

Kela sat on a bench in the arbor, legs tucked under her, pretending to read a novel. A small smile hovered about her mouth as she felt Loki's eyes on her from the walkway above. She refused to look up and acknowledge his presence, even though it seemed her flesh was burning where his eyes bore into her. Let him think she was unaware.

For a week she had been waging a battle that she had no intention of losing. They had been long, excruciating days, to be sure, but she was beginning to see the results of her efforts. Though she longed for nothing more than to lock herself away in her rooms or, better yet, ride off into the obscurity, she would not let herself be so weak. Each day she dressed herself in one of her gowns - the old ones she had brought, not the new queen's wardrobe that had been fashioned for her - and made herself seen at court and about the palace. 

She attended the official audiences in the throne room, ate and danced in the banquet hall in the evening, and spent the afternoons reading or in discussion with Frigga in gardens and galleries. She made sure, however, that she never stood too near the throne or ate at the high table. Nothing that would seem to bestow on her any sort of official position beyond what her birth would grant her.

She had found a small group of courtiers who seemed willing to socialize with her despite the stigma she carried from her very publicly broken engagement. Morin, the young man she had sat next to at Loki's coronation banquet, was the leader of them, and he confessed to her two nights later that Frigga had asked him and his sister Jael to look after her. She was touched if slightly embarrassed.

Morin had proved to be a witty conversationalist and a skillful dancer, and Kela genuinely enjoyed his company as well as Jael's. It was nice to be able to relax a bit. She knew she had to be careful though, especially with Morin. While it was tempting to use him to make Loki jealous, and indeed his tall form, gingery curls, quick smile and bright blue eyes would make him perfect for the purpose, she did not want to bring the anger of the moody king down upon him.  And the king was very, very moody.

Kela would smile at Loki, show him all deference due to the crown, but during the day she kept him at arms length. She would seek him out with her eyes across a room and smile with slow, sensual promise while her eyes drifted down the length of his body suggestively, but then dismissively turn to her companions to discuss the latest piece of music or political intrigue, making sure that her laugh was heard as often as possible when he was in the room. In short, she treated him exactly the way she had seen her eldest brother treat the girls at home who warmed his bed but would never share his title.

Kela saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and a moment later Loki stood in front of her. 

“You have been neglecting your training,” he said abruptly, without preamble. 

“Good afternoon to you too, your majesty,” she smiled, looking up at him. 

“This is not a joke, Kela,” he snapped. 

“Sif has been away since the day before your coronation,” she shrugged. She knew the other woman had left so that she would not have to see the man she loved marry someone else. Kela felt for her. 

“That is no excuse,” Loki admonished her.  “You will begin training with me again tomorrow.”

”Does the king have time to attend to such a trivial matter?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“For the safety of my future queen, I will make time,” he smiled thinly. 

“So you’ll be training us both then?” she asked with mock innocence. 

“Kela,” his tone was warning. 

“Loki,” she was vaguely mocking. 

“Do not push me too far, woman,” he growled. 

“I would never dream of such a thing, your majesty,” she smiled. 

“Here,” he said suddenly, producing from nowhere a small bouquet of purple, white, and yellow flowers. “They are love-in-idleness, from that ridiculous play you made me read,” he explained.

“They’re lovely!” she said sincerely.

“Do try not to fall in love with an ass,” he told her, and turned on his heel and left.

”I already have,” she muttered quietly to herself as she watched him leave.

Kela smiled and inhaled the flowers. It was a start. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flowers are from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which Oberon and Puck use to make Titania, the fairy queen, fall in love with Bottom, who has been given the head of an ass. I assume the Shakespearian romance was among the plays that Kela and Loki read.


	19. Sparring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki tests Kela's skills in the practice ring.

Loki arrived at the training grounds early the next day, excited to spend time with Kela as he had before their relationship had spun into its current unacceptable pattern. He was sure she would have slipped in her skills - she was not, alas, a natural fighter and taking a week off would surely have caused her to regress - and he had to admit to himself that he was quite looking forward to a legitimate excuse to chastise her. He was not pleased with the current power balance and planned to readress it. 

He had not really noticed that Sif had disappeared. He supposed it made sense. The fool woman had always been besotted with his brother, but was too damn noble to do anything about it. Of course she wouldn’t want to see him wed Kela. The only question was why she hadn’t returned when the marriage fell apart. 

When Loki arrived he found the Warriors Three finishing up a workout. He would have to come up with some task to send them on off world, or they were bound to stir up trouble. He could sense the animosity rolling off of them. He knew they were unhappy over Thor’s abdication and would be blaming him. 

“Well, a royal visit. I thought you had guards to defend you now. Why get your own hands dirty if you can just use someone else to get what you want?” Volstagg asked pointedly. 

“I don’t recall ever needing guards to defeat you before,” he replied calmly. “If you wish I will happily do so again. Is there some reason I would need to defend myself against you?”

”What, not hiding behind a woman’s skirt, your majesty?” The large man asked.

”Or under them,” Fandral added.

”What brings you to the practice yards, my lord?” Hogun asked, trying to ease the tension.

”With Lady Sif gone I am taking it upon myself to continue Kela’s training regiment,” he replied to the only one of the thee he could tolerate.

”I would think she would be tired enough from the work outs you give her at night,” Fandral smirked. “However, if you are looking for a new instructor for her I will gladly offer up my services. I would love the chance to tussle with the wench.”

It took three moves and Fandral was on the ground, Loki’s knee digging into his chest and the point of Loki's dagger at his throat. Volstagg and Hogun had not even had time to interfere, and before they could react two guards stepped forward and drew their swords.

”Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you,” Loki asked quietly.

”Do it then,” Fandral replied tauntingly. “Show all the fools of Asgard who have chosen to forget your crimes what your true nature really is.”

Loki growled and pressed the point of his knife into the blond man’s throat.

”Stop!” he heard Kela cried, and looking up he saw that she had arrived and stood at the entrance, panic in her eyes. “He isn’t worth it, Loki,” she told him quietly.

”He disrespects you,” Loki spat. “He belittles and covets you in the same breath.”

”I care not for his opinion,” she replied, looking disdainfully at the man under his blade. “And as for coveting me, let him. He will never have me.”

”No one else will ever have you,” Loki clarified, gazing at her intently. After a moment Kela nodded.

”He is not worh it, my lord,” she repeated.

With a worless snarl he brought his knife up to cut a slash across the handsome man’s face. 

“You will leave Asgard immediately,” he commanded. “I will not have my lady insulted any longer. And you may thank her for your life; her presence is the only reason I do not kill you here and now. Take him,” he barked to his companions, and rose to his feet.

Without a word his friends dragged Fandral out of the room, the guards following at Loki's nod.

"I should have killed him years ago when I had the chance," Loki mused, as if to himself.

"Is death so easy for you to dole out then?" Kela asked.

"Usually," he shrugged. "So, are you ready to show me what you've learned?"

"Perhaps we should postpone," she suggested, "given you seem a bit on edge."

"Nonsense," he was not going to let her off that easily. "Now, suppose you are alone on a back road somewhere..." he stalked her like a predator,  hands slightly raised at his sides. She turned to follow him, but he stopped her. "No, face away from me. If I were an enemy you would not know I was coming."

She turned away from him and he admired the way her legs looked in the knee length leather skirt and leggings she wore. Her head lifted slightly as she seemed to be listening to him approach. He moved on catlike feet to her left, then one arm shot out and grabbed her around the waist, pinning her right arm to her body. She brought her left arm back, her elbow looking to connect with his stomach. He pulled to the side and spun her, pressing her against his body.

"Your reflexes are slow, love," he chided. “If I was a brigand you would be in by clutches already.”

Her large blue eyes stared up at him and her teeth bit her bottom lip. She looked adorably flustered. His head bent down to claim her lips, and he yelped in shock and pain as her booted foot came down on his hard enough to loosen his grasp and allow her knee to snap up and make contact with his groin. He doubled over briefly and she danced away from him.

"Careful darling," grunted, gasping for air, "hurt me too badly there and I won't be the only one to suffer."

She had drawn a slim blade from her belt and they circled each other. He saw her make a few feints with the blade but ignored them. She seemed to have her footing solid beneath her, which he had taught her the first lesson. He was more impressed than he had expected, but she still had miles to go before she could truly defend herself. He spotted the tell of her quick glance down at the knife, and moments later it was striking towards him. Effortlessly he blocked the blade, twisting her wrist and disarming her in one smoot move. Catching the knife as it fell he lunged forward with it and cut down her bodice, slicing strait through the material without so much as grazing her fair skin. He grinned as her eyes widened and her hands grabbed the material to hold it together.

"You haven't been practicing, love," he scolded her. "Now what will you do?"

He grinned as she glared at him, then dropped his eyes as she released the material and let it fall open, baring her large breasts. As he ogled her chest, he missed the second knife she had pulled from her sleeve and quickly hurled at him. It was a valiant effort, but she was no fighter and the blade flew far from him and crashed on the floor.

"Nice try, but your aim is a little off," he chuckled, backing her up step by step until he had her against the wall. "And now, sweet Kela, I will show you what happens to fair damsels that fall prey to ruffians."

Reaching out in a flash he grabbed her wrists in either hand and brought them up over her head. Taking a final step to close the distance between their bodies Loki leaned forward and took one nipple in his mouth, pulling at it gently with his teeth. Kela moaned arched into him, one leg coming up as if of its own will and wrapping itself around his waist. He adjusted his grip so that he held both of her wrists in one of his large hands while the other moved down to grip her thigh, holding it in place. 

"You see how dangerous it is to go about unable to defend yourself," he cooed, switching his attention to her other breast and bucking his hard length into her through the material of their clothes. "You forfeit your virtue by doing so."

"I forfeited my virtue the day I met you, your majesty," she groaned breathlessly, moving her hips against him. "I find I have quite enjoyed it."

He moved his lips to hers and sucked her tongue into his mouth. Gods, she tasted sweet. 

"Lady Kela!" an excited voice called from the entryway. "Lady Kela, are you in here?"

Kela froze and tried to bring her leg down, but Loki held it in place.

"We're busy," he snapped, looking over his shoulder to see the annoyingly persistent Morin hovering there, face red and eyes averted.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kela squirmed in his grip. "What is it Morin? Loki, let me go!"

"Forgive me, your majesty," he stammered. "Kela, I will find you later."

"Stay," she insisted, and wrenched her leg out of his grip. Grinding his teeth Loki let go of her wrists and took half a step back, still blocking her from view as she pulled her top together. "The King was just tutoring me in self defense," she explained. "What brings you here?"

"Queen Frigga suggested I might find you here," he explained, causing Loki to silently curse his mother. "The manuscript you've been waiting arrived. I thought you'd want to know."

"Manuscript?" Loki asked, voice dripping with annoyance.

"A rare first edition from Svartalfheim," he explained, "I was able to locate it for Kela after she expressed interest the other day."

"You found it?" she squealed, ducking out from below Loki's arm and running over to the other man.

"I did," he answered, equally excited.

"I assume we are done here, my lord?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder to where he stood smoldering. "Morin, let me go change, and I will meet you in the library."

"Lady Kela," Loki stalked towards her, grabbing her chin and forcing her face up, "we will continue this."

"Same time tomorrow?" she asked.

"Tonight in my chambers," he growled, kissing her long and deep. Let the fool bring her books. He would bring her pleasure the likes of which she had never known.

 

***

Kela ran to her room, torn blouse held together in her hands. She was truly excited to look at the rare manuscript, but she had never been less pleased to see someone than she had Morin in that moment. Her pulse was racing a mile a minute and she could feel herself dripping between her thighs. She tried to hide it, but the way he moved when he fought, making it look like a dance, graceful and deadly, turned her on in ways she could barely describe. When her friend had interrupted them just now it had taken all her will power not to scream.

She changed quickly into the first dress she grabbed from her closet and fixed her hair in the mirror. Smiling she leaned over and smelled the flowers he had given her and her eyes lit on a small box that sat next to it. She didn't remember seeing it before. Picking it up she saw a small origami swan behind it. Smiling she realized who it must be from. 

 _Just a small token of my affection,_ the note on the read.

She opened the box and found a small green and black striped gem stone on a thin gold chain. The stone seemed to glow from the inside. It was beautiful. Opening the clasp Kela slipped it around her neck. The chain was just long enough that the gem nestled between her breasts. Of course it did.

The thought flickered through her mind of how he had gotten the gem here. Had he just had a servant place it while cleaning, or had he been in here himself? She could just imagine him snooping through her belongings. She tried to summon up her anger, but really how could she expect him to go against his nature. He would always have to play, she knew, and honestly it was one of the reasons she loved him. At least he seemed to be starting to make an effort.

Kela was going to have to speak to Frigga. The older woman had been invaluable as an ally. She had feared that Frigga would resent Kela for coming between her two sons, but the Queen had seemed to find it inevitable that something would drive the brothers to odds again. She had decided that Kela was a good influence on Loki, though Kela could not quite see how, and was doing all in her power to help make him step up to his feelings. However, if Frigga kept throwing Morin into the mix Kela was afraid that it would end up badly for her friend. Considering how Loki's anger had driven him to violence against Fandral, whom she openly despised, she could only imagine what Loki would do if he decided something was going on between her and Morin. And the handsome young poet had nothing like Fandral's skill at arms. If Loki were to go after him it would be a slaughter.

 She had just rounded a corner on her way to the library when she felt a hand grip her arm from behind and pull her into an alcove.

"Loki," she said, rolling her eyes, "this is not the time."

"And I'm not Loki," said a muffled voice.

The next thing she knew a rag was placed over her mouth and nose. She tried to struggle, but everything she had learned went out the window. A fog took over her brain and she slipped into unconsciousness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure why I keep making Fandral such an ass. I guess I needed a foil for Loki and I've always found his character a little smarmy.
> 
> Thanks to everyone still reading. This had been really fun so far. I love the feedback and that some people seem to be enjoying it. You make me happy.


	20. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kela finds out the identity of one of her captors, and Loki questions whether she would have left him willingly.

The darkness didn’t abate as Kela opened her eyes. She knew a moment of panic until she realized a cloth was wrapped around her head. She seemed to be bound to some sort if chair. She could feel metal around her wrists holding them to the arms and another set holding her ankles to the legs. 

She seemed to be unharmed, but other than that could not tell anything about her circumstances. 

Kela had no idea how long she sat there. It was probably only an hour or so, but felt like days. She had ascertained that the chair was too well made to pull apart by tugging at her restraints and that she was too securely bound to be able to lean forward and pull off her blindfold. She finally tried screaming at the top of her lungs, and thought she detected a slight echo. 

“No one will hear you,” a woman’s voice spoke from a few feet away. “You may as well save your voice.”

The voice sounded familiar, but Kella could not quite place it. 

“Who are you and why have you brought me here?” Kela tried to make her voice more confident than she felt. 

“If I wanted you to know that, you wouldn’t be blindfolded, now would you?”  the woman replied with grim humor. 

“King Loki will not sit idly by while I am missing,” she protested. “Free me now and you might eacape his wrath. Continue to hold me and he will hunt you down and kill you”

”Will he? Or will he think you’ve simply spurned him and moved on to the next warm body? It is not as though you have a reputation for constancy, Lady Kela.”

Suddenly Kela realized where she knew the voice from, and she was stunned. If someone had asked her to name the most honorable people she knew, this woman would be at the top of it!

”Lady Sif?” She asked in shock, and heard the other woman swear. 

“Well aren’t you the clever one?” Sif sighed. “I suppose there’s no reason to keep this on any more.”

Kela blinked as the cloth was lifted from her eyes and she adjusted to the dim light of a cave. She was bound to a heavy wooden chair with metal cuffs. Sif sat across a plank table from her with her staff across her lap, tankard in her hands. Torches burned in two rungs on the wall. A low light coming from a narrow opening put the time at dusk. 

“Lady Sif,” Kela looked confused at the other woman. 

“You have not been practicing,” Sif admonished her. “I should not have been able to subdue you that quickly.”

”Why subdue me at all?” Kela demanded. “Why gave you done this?”

Sif merely shrugged in response. 

“Where have you been?” Kela asked. “You disappeared after our night of drink.”

”I had no wish to watch Thor wed you,” she shrugged.

“Neither did I,” Kela agreed. To her surprise Sif glared at her. 

“How could you?” She asked, venom in her voice. “It was bad enough he chose some nobody for the back of beyond to begin with. But as I got to know you, you seemed sweet so I made my peace with it. But then to betray him in that way! To expose him to public shame and ridicule! To drive him out of hos very home! And for what?”

”For love,” Kela said quietly. “Lady Sif, I am not proud of the way things occurred,  but just as you love Thor, I love Loki.”

”I never said I loved Thor!” She denied quickly. 

“Your every word and look proclaims it,” Kela told her gently. “Would you have me marry him, knowing that I loved his brother?”

“Love Loki,” Sif sounded made the very thought sound repulsive. “I did not think you stupid, Kela.”

”And I did not think you treacherous, Sif.”

”You talk to me of treachery?”

”I would not have chosen to end things with Thor in that manner,” Kela said taking a deep breath. “Believe me, it has not been an easy path for me since.”

”Yet you stand by the one who caused your pain.”

”I love him,” she said again.

”Then I am sorry for you.”

”Is that why you kidnapped me?”

”I am not the architect of this plot,” Sif admitted. "I was offered a chance to hurt the ones who hurt Thor and drove him away. I did not ask farther than that.”

“Asked by whom?”

”You will find out soon enough. No more talking.” 

And with that Sif turned her back on Kela and spoke no more.

Loki would find her, Kela told herself. She just had to trust in him.

***

Kela was late, and it was unacceptable. Loki had spent the rest of the afternoon dealing with mundane matters of state and a raging erection. He had kept himself locked in his personal study, answering correspondence and counting the hours until she would knock on the outer door to his chambers and give herself to him. He did not intend to let her get farther than the front sitting room before tearing off her gown and sinking into her. He needed to feel her tight walls around him, to loose himself in the warmth of her body, her willing arms clinging to him, her mouth hot on his skin. 

Where was she? It was not like her to be late. As resistant as she might be in other areas of their relationship, her perverse refusal to marry him for example, she never failed to present herself to his chambers as soon as night fell. It was now hours past supper and she was nowhere to be found. Was she punishing him for something? Yes, he had taunted her a bit at practice earlier, but far from upsetting her it had served, as many things between them did, to bring out passionate lust in them both. The thought of her leg rising as if of its own volition to grip around his waist and pull him tighter against her made him groan in frustration.

Yanking his door open Loki stormed down the hall to slam on Kela's door. Was this what she wanted? The latest in the power play he knew she was waging? Fine, he would come to her, but he would make her regret humbling him. Before the night was over she would be the one begging, groveling on her knees, to he who was and would be her only god. He would make her love every minute of it.

The door opened and Loki pulled back his hand just as it was about to grab Kela's little made into a passionate embrace. She shrunk back, eyes wide and sank to her knees.

"Your majesty!" her voice squeaked in panic.

"Lady Kela," he ground out between his teeth. "is she in?"

"No, your majesty," the girl stuttered. "I haven't seen her all day. Not since she returned from training with you this afternoon. She left shortly thereafter and has not been back."

"You will inform me the moment she returns," he growled and spun on his heel.

An hour later he had searched everywhere with no sign of her. He was returning to his room when a thought hit him. He stopped the first guard he saw and ordered them to find Morin and bring him to his rooms. As much as it galled him, perhaps the insufferable lord might have an idea of where the girl could be found. Ruthlessly he pushed down the thought that they might be together. Kela would not be unfaithful to him, not with the effete young noble. True, she had been adamantly resistant to committing to him, but that was just a game. She was his and he gave her everything she needed. She had no need to look elsewhere.

When the knock sounded on his door he opened it with his seidr, not even wasting the time to stand and open it. It was not Morin who stood there, however, but his sister. Loki glared at the girl as she curtsied, taking in her terrified appearance.

"Your majesty," she spoke in a quiet voice.

"I asked for your brother, not you, Lady..."

"Jael," she supplied. 

"Where is he?" Loki demanded.

"My lord, he has left the palace," she whispered.

A cold feeling settled into the pit of Loki's stomach.

"Alone?" Loki could barely bring himself to ask. All but confirming his worst fears, the girl blushed and looked down at the floor. Crossing the room in two long strides, Loki grabbed the girl by the throat and pinned her to the wall. "I asked you a question," he seethed.

"I do not believe so, my lord," she squeaked.

"Tell me all you know," white hot rage was pounding in his brain.

"I don't know much, my lord," she gasped, "only that he asked me to saddle two horses and told me he would not be returning."

"Do you know who the second horse was for?" his voice was deceptively soft.

"My lord... your majesty... I do not know, but I believe it was for Lady Kela."

Loki's grip around her throat tightened and he could feel her breathing stop. It felt so gratifying in that moment to watch the life begin to fade from her eyes, and he was taken with the almost uncontrollable urge to snap the thin column of her neck. Only the thought that he might need her stopped him from taking his rage out on her. He let her lifeless body drop to the ground as he released his grip.

"Guard," he snapped, and saw a man appear in his doorway, "take Lady Jael and secure her until further notice. No one is to see or speak to her."

It was not true. It could not be. Kela loved him, she would not abandon him, would she? Against his will he felt his eyes welling up.

Suddenly he remembered the latest gift he had left for Kela that morning. She had been back to her chambers only briefly since then, would she have found it? Would she have cared, a treacherous part of his mind asked. If she really had run off with Morin, would she not have laughed in scorn at the bauble left for her by a besotted king? But if she had not deserted him of her own free will, she might have it on her, and it might grant him a way to find her.

Reaching into his tunic, he pulled out the leather thong with the matching green and black glowing stone. He had been wearing it next to his heart like a fool, feeling it a connection to her. Well, it was time to see if the connection was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is much harder to write everyday when surrounded by family! Explaining that no, you are not writing your latest theater piece, but an occasionally erotic fanfic is bound to get you strange looks from parents, siblings, and fiancé (although my niece would probably be into it, securing my spot as the "fun aunt!")
> 
> Anyway, as always, hope you enjoy!


	21. Secrets Unmasked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kela sees the face of her true captor, while Loki begins the search for his love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, over 1000 views! I am humbled. Thank you all so much for reading, commenting, and kudo-ing!

Kela did not know how long she had been tied to the chair, but it seemed like forever. Sif had refused to talk to her further after the first burst of conversation. Kela had the feeling that the other woman was profoundly unhappy, and had tried to draw her out in order to talk her around to unbinding her. Instead of the hoped for result, it had merely ended in Sif putting the blindfold back over Kela's eyes and leaving the cave, instructing the her stay put. As if she had any choice in the matter.

Kela's limbs were starting to cramp and she was losing feeling in her hands and feet. Her stomach was making rumbling noises; while Sif had lifted a flagon of water to her lips she had eaten nothing since she had been abducted. Surely whoever was the mastermind behind this sordid plan did not intend to starve her to death?

For the life of her, Kela could not fathom who would want to kidnap her. She could understand Sif's anger at her, she herself was far more likely to be moved to anger on behalf of someone she loved than for her own sake, but it appeared that Sif's was not the motivating drive behind the abduction. Who then? Could it be Thor, seeking revenge for her betrayal? She dismissed the idea out of hand. Thor had been in position to move against her had he wished and had instead left himself, ceding the field to Loki and, by association, her. Besides, were the God of Thunder to seek revenge, she could not see him resorting to kidnapping and subterfuge. He was nothing if not straightforward.

Finally she allowed herself to doze, letting the darkness that encompassed her lead her off into a fitful dream where an unseen assailant chased her down the hallways of the palace. The dream her ended trapped at a dead end, confronted by a masked assailant. She reached forward to pull the mask off and found herself startled awake.

"Sweetheart," a low voice said, as a hand trailed down her cheek. "I've found you."

"Loki?" she asked, confused. The echo of the cave in which she was being held did strange things to the sound, but his voice sounded wrong somehow.

"Yes, my own, it is I," she felt lips press against her own. For a moment she surrendered to the kiss, relief surging through her that her king had come to rescue her. But as the gentle mouth worked over hers and the hand reached down to cup her face she knew something was not right. The fingers of the hand were long and elegant, but soft. So to were the lips, insistent but at the same time uncertain, so unlike the primal claim Loki laid to her mouth with tongue and teeth. Wildly she ripped her head away.

"No, it is not," she spat. She wanted to wash her mouth, her lips, where he had touched her with his own. "I would know my lord's kiss anywhere, and you are most definitely not him."

"Well, aren't you the clever girl," he replied, his voice loosing the slight growl he had affected to impersonate Loki. "I should have known better than to think that animal would be gentle with you, show you kindness or respect."

And with that his mouth was on hers again, more insistent if still unskilled, and his hand moved to fondle her breast through her blouse.

"None of that," she heard Sif's voice say with a crack of command. "I agreed to help you abduct her, not rape her."

"Such an ugly word, Lady Sif," the voice said with a laugh. "I was simply showing her how a true gentleman touches a lady."

"A true gentleman has to tie up and blind a woman in order to ineptly grope her?" Kela asked contemptuously. True, Loki had both tied and blindfolded her before, but it had been with her full consent, and to delicious results. 

"Be careful, dear lady, my fondness for you will only allow so much."

"Fondness? Who are you?" she asked. She could not shake the feeling that she should know, but could not quite hit on it.

"I suppose there's no harm in letting you know," he said with a little giggle. "After all, you won't be going back to the palace to tell."

The fabric was once more removed from Kela's eyes, and for the second time she felt her world rock on her axis.

"Morin?" she asked, bewildered. "I thought you were my friend!"

"I thought so too," he sighed, a tragic gleam in his blue grey eyes. "I convinced myself that you were no more than an unwilling pawn in that monster's clutches. That he had somehow used his magic on you that morning."

"Why does everyone other man think that he bewitched me?" she muttered acidly. "Have none of you men seen him?"

"I saw the way you ignored his advances," Morin went on, as though she had not spoken. "Watched you neatly sidestep every advance he made on you. Saw how openly you preferred my company to his. I thought you were trapped, unable to leave because the king would not let you go. I actually intended to rescue you, more fool I. You can imagine my shock, my disgust, when I entered that practice room to see you wrapped around him like a willing whore, panting for his attention."

"I never denied my feeling for Loki, to you or anyone else," she said angrily, “and I most certainly never asked to be rescued.”

”It is true then, that you are in love with that monster?” Morin asked in disbelief.

”Madly,” Kela said definitely.

Morin made a gutteral noise and she gasped as he slapped her across the face. Seeing what he had done his eyes widened and he fell to his knees.

”Forgive me, Kela!” he begged, eyes glistening woth unshed tears, “I do not want to hurt you, but you must not say such things!”

Slowly it was dawning on Kela that her ginger haired friend might not be entirely sane, and she knew a moment of fright.

 "What was it?" she asked softly. "What has he done to you to make you hate him so much?"

"He took my love away from me," Morin said, "and now I will take his.

***

"Loki, what have you done with Morin and Jael?" Frigga asked, barging into his rooms unceremoniously.

"Really mother," he snarled, "you should learn to knock. What if I had Kela bent over a chair?" Had the night progressed the way he intended that might very well have been the case.

"Don't be coarse, Loki," she huffed. "And do answer my question."

"I have done nothing with your precious Morin," he answered half of her question. "But that will change soon enough."

He turned back to his desk and the flaming candle he had lit upon it. Slowly he turned let the green and black stone sway over it.

"Why are you scrying?" she asked, her eyes lighting upon the pendant.

"Because I seek something that I have lost," he replied in a clipped tone.

"And that would be?"

"If you must know, your little lordling has absconded with Lady Kela," he replied, and was rewarded with her gasp. "Indeed."

"Perhaps they just went for a ride..." she suggested.

"According to his sister, they did not plan to return."

"Oh Loki, no!" she breathed. "Kela loves you! I am sure of it."

"Are you mother?" he asked in a dangerously silky voice. "Well then, that means that he has abducted her. Is that any better?"

"He is young and foolish, and perhaps nurses an infatuation," she admitted, "but he would not do such a thing..." but her voice seemed to have lost something of its certainty.

"We shall find out soon enough. I have gifted Kela with the twin of this stone. If she is wearing it, I should be able to follow the pull to her. Ah!" he smiled triumphantly as the gem gave a slight tug in his hand. "Forgive me, mother, but I must be off."

"I am coming with you," she said quickly.

"I think not."

"Why not?" she pushed, following him as he strode down the hall, walking quickly to keep up with his long legs.

Loki stopped in his tracks and turned to her, a look of cold fury in his eyes.

"That little bilge snipe has ridden off with the woman I love," Loki's voice held a danger that Frigga had not heard in some time, and she wept inside at the pain and hurt it betrayed. "Either he has stolen her from me," even saying the words made his eyes gleam slightly red for a moment, "or he has abducted her. Either way, I would not hold out hope for his life extending past the moment I set eyes on him."

"There may be another explanation," she challenged as he started walking towards the stables again. "And what of Kela? If..."

"If she has forsaken me?" he jeered, "well, she taunted me once with the image of a queen bound to the throne by chains. Perhaps I will get to see just how lovely she looks in true bondage." 

And as she stopped to gasp at him in horror he rounded the corner and allowed the single tear to slide down his cheek.


	22. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morin explains his reasoning to Kela, and Loki is on the hunt for his love. Will he find her in time?

“What do you mean he took your love?” Kela asked with a feeling of foreboding.

“Her name was Cordelaine,” Morin replied. “A shy young girl from the provinces. We loved each other from childhood, but my family didn’t approve of the match. She was not high born enough. So we came to The palace to seek an intervention from the crown. It was during Prince Thor’s coronation- the first one - so no one thought it odd when we both came to court. So many people were here for the celebration.”

”Some celebration,” Sif scoffed. 

“Precisely. You were not here, Lady Kela, or you could not possibly still cling to the monster. Not someone as loving as you. It was during the ceremony that the Ice Giants invaded, cutting the revels short.”

”I heard of it, of course,” Kela hedged, fearful of where this was going. 

“Cordelain was not invited to the grand hall. She was not of sufficient rank. But I wanted to see my cousin’s investiture, so I left her to join the throng. She was all alone when she encountered the giants in a stairwell. She never stood a chance. They cut her down like so much chaff.”

”Oh Morin,” Kela breathed, “I am so sorry.”

”Be sorry for laying with him! The monster responsible for her death!” he snarled, rising to his feet and glaring down at her. “Loki let the ice giants into Asgard. He butchered my love as surely as if he had swung the blade. And all for a bit of fun. But then, what can you expect when he is one of them himself.”

”By birth, perhaps,” Kela admitted. It was a part of him she did not shrink from, but nor did she spend much thought on it. “But he is Asgardian in every way that matters. And he did not mean, I am sure, for Cordelain to die. I know that does not excuse his actions...”

”And how many more has he killed since then?” Morin demanded angrily. “On Midgard they say it was hundreds. And yet you spread your legs for him like a greedy slut.” His eyes were wild in his face, staring at her with hatred. 

“And so you will kill me in revenge?” she asked, trying to remain calm. 

“I do not want to, Kela,” he said, swinging back to his gentle voice, kneeling beside her again to stroke her face. “You have been my friend, and the first woman to bring joy back to my life. I could make you happy, I know it! You think you love him, but you are deceived. You could not love someone so immoral. And if it his form you desire, well, I am not so different from him. It has been a curse to me until now that we bear a resemblance, but perhaps it was for this purpose.”

Kela looked at him, noticing for the first time that there was a similarity between Morin and Loki. The same high, sharp cheekbones, bright eyes, and wide smile, not to mention their height and even voice were alike. Odin must have had Frigga’s family in mind, she suspected, when he had first cast the illusion that became Loki’s appearance. The hair was different, and the face fuller, less pale, but Morin looked far more like Loki than Thor did. 

“His face and form are lovely, as are yours, Morin,” she said, looking into his moist blue eyes, “but that is not why I love him.”

Morin’s face fell into a snarl of disappointment, his beseeching eyes turning harsh again.

”You have a choice, Lady Kela,” he told her. “One way or another, you will be leaving the monster. Either with me or in a coffin.”

”Do you really think he will let me go?” She asked. “Do you think he will not hunt  us down and kill you? Where will you go?”

”To Midgard, of course, he can hardly follow us there. They know what he truly is and would kill him on sight should he dare.”

”You’ve thought of everything,” she said in despair. 

“You have the day to decide, lady Kela,” he told her. “He is not worth your death. I hope you will choose wisely.”

Morin stood up as if to depart.  

“Morin, wait!” Kela cried. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

Morin stopped and looked at her, eyes wary.

” I have been bound to this chair for hours,” she said, looking up at him with big eyes. “I have only been allowed up to relieve myself. Please, undo my bindings.”

“You wish to escape,” he accused wildly. “To use my kindness to run back to him!”

”Morin, I swear to you, if you unbind me I will not flee. Lady Sif is here, it is not as though I would get far!”

It was easy enough to swear, she thought, since she doubted her feet would hold her anyway. 

“I will keep her here,” Sif confirmed. 

Morin looked between the two of them and reluctantly began unlocking Kela’s shackles. As the locks clicked open she bent forward to massage her ankles, and the green and black stone fell forward out of the neck of her dress. It was glowing brighter than it had when she put it on. Morin’s eyes latched onto it and he pulled in his breath sharply.

“Bitch!” He hissed at her. “What is that? What have you done?”

”I don’t know...” Kela looked at the stone in confusion. “It was a gift, left for me in my chambers...”

Morin leaned forward and tore the stone from over her head. Letting it hang from its chain he weaved his hand in front of it for a moment and Kela gasped as she saw a thin blue glow emanating from his fingers. 

“What, you thought your monster the only one who could manipulate seidr?” He mocked. “You must remember, I too am of the royal line.”

The blue glow surrounded the glowing green stone and hissed yellow where they met. Morin’s forehead broke out in a sweat as he tried to force his power into the gem. Finally with a bright green flare he was knocked back onto his heels, shaking the hand from which his power had come. Kela had to check a crow of triumph as obviously Loki’s magic had proven stronger. Well, of course it had, she thought proudly. 

“Here!” Morin shoved the necklace at a stunned looking Sif. “Take this offworld and bury it!”

”Bury it yourself,” she said, rising and collecting her staff. “I am done with this business.”

”What?!?”

”I didn’t sign on to get involved in a battle between two magicians,” she told him. 

“Coward,” he snarled.

”Call me all the names you like,” she shrugged. “I’m out.”

”Sif, wait!” Kela begged “please, help me!”

”You sealed your own fate when you chose to literally get in bed with a snake,” Sif told her coldly. “Perhaps in the future you will exercise better judgment. If you live that long.”

And with that the other woman was gone, leaving Kela with a highly unstable looking Morin, who now held a glowing blue dagger in his hand. Kela looked behind him at the exit, trying to gauge if she could make it passed him, but he didn’t give her a chance. With a cruel smile he flicked his wrist and blue snakes twined around her wrists, pulling them up above her head and holding them there, forcing her almost onto her toes. Another coil of blue wrapped around her mouth, and a third over her eyes. She was completely helpless. 

“I am afraid I must leave you for a bit. Since I cannot tell if this still works when separated from your lovely neck, I must get it away from us.” he said, sounding sad. “And under the circumstances I cannot trust you to stay put and not call for help I must leave you bound. Your bestial lover put a tracking device on you. So much he trusts you, hmm? Think of that while I take it elsewhere to throw him off the scent, and have an answer ready for me on my return.”

***

 The stone had pulled Loki steadily for the first few hours, and he had hope that the search would not take long. But as the sun began to rise on the day the pull became confused, and then disappeared entirely. He was at a loss. It would have glowed bright, he knew, once he had set his to the fire and triggered its activation. Had she noticed it and, deducing with her clever brain its nature, tossed it from her? Or had something happened to the sweet neck about which it hung?

The thought struck fear into his heart. Suddenly rather than obsessing over her leaving him he began picturing all of the hazards that may have befallen her. What if she had been taken unwillingly, and perished while trying to resist? A frantic feeling was welling in his heart.

Taking a deep breath, Loki tried to center himself. It would do Kela no good for him to fall apart. He was near the location where the stone had been when the spell broke, perhaps he could find a trace of her. Looking ahead he saw a ragged coast line and directed his mount in that direction. 

He went slowly, senses on alert for any clue that might lead him to her, when he noticed another rider approaching from the distance. Hi heart leapt for a moment, until he realized that woman nearing him was far to tall and dark for it to be Kela. As she drew near he recognized her, and pulled his horse directly in front of hers, causing her to stop.

"Lady Sif," he said, warily.

"Your majesty," she bowed grudgingly in the saddle and tried to maneuver around him.

"You will stay where you are," his tone was sharp, betraying his hint of fear. She looked uncharacteristically evasive and his hackles were raised. "Have you seen anyone else on this beach?" he asked, looking closely at her.

"Not on the beach, no, your majesty," she answered. His spirit deflated and he started to spur his horse on again when a guilty look in her eye caught his attention. Acting on sheer impulse he launched himself from the saddle and sent her flying to the ground, hand circling her throat. "Where is she?" he demanded.

"Where is who?" she asked.

"Don't lie, Sif, it's not in your nature and I am far better at it than you. Lady Kela. Tell me she is alive!"

Sif pushed up with her torso and knocked him off of her, rising to her knee. He produced his knife and lunged at her, grazing her arm as she turned. Her foot came up and made contact with his side, but just glancingly as he danced out of the way. He was happy with the spot of violence to vent some of his frustrations, but this was not getting Kela back. With a guttural cry he swept her legs out from under her and brought his knife to her throat.

"Tell me!" he shouted.

"She is alive," she said, drawing breath rapidly. "Or at least was so when I left."

"Left where?" he demanded.

"A cave, an hour or so down the shore. The mouth is hidden behind withered tree."

"Why?" the one word was full of desperation. 

"I took her," Sif admitted, looking down.

"You?" her response made no sense to him.

"I was angry," she explained. "With her, with you, with the humiliation you brought to your brother. She did not deserve him!"

Loki thought his eyes would roll out of his head.

"We agree on that," he said dryly. "What good did you hope to achieve by taking Kela?"

"I wasn't thinking that clearly. I was angry. Hurt. And very, very drunk. He offered a chance for vengeance, to make you both pay."

"He? Thor is behind this?" he could not have been more shocked.

"No, not Thor!" she said disdainfully. "He is far too noble to ever even contemplate such a revenge."

Again he wanted to shake her for her blind, slavish devotion to his undeserving brother.

"Who then," he asked very slowly, as though speaking to a child or simpleton. 

She glared at him for a moment and he could see her conflicting loyalties battling with each other. It would never sit well with her to betray one she had aligned herself with, but Loki was the king. Finally she seemed to deflate.

"It was Lord Moring," she confessed and he heard a feral growl come from his throat. "He wants to make you suffer."

"Me?" he asked, perplexed. "What have I ever done to that puppy?"

"The ice giants killed his fiancé when you arranged for them to interrupt Thor's investiture," she answered, glaring daggers at him. "He means to take your woman as recompense."

"Take her?" he asked, panic once again sitting in his chest. "What do you mean by take her?"

"I do not think even he knows," she replied quietly. "Death or dishonor, it really makes little difference to him, as long as you suffer. Loki, I do not think he is sane."

He was on his feet in an instant and swinging into the saddle. Not even sparing a glance at her he took off at a gallop down the beach. His instincts had been right. She was in danger, and it was all because of him. He would never forgive himself if she came to grief. He only hoped he could get there in time.

[](https://giphy.com/gifs/loki-thor-the-avengers-Q1ch1LvHAdpEQ?utm_source=media-link&utm_medium=landing&utm_campaign=Media%20Links&utm_term=https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&ccid=02MMFP0T&id=1707BCC1616D860D4C7553BE1D9593DCEB0F25F4&thid=OIP.02MMFP0T30yBYdODkMM7wQHaPC&mediaurl=https%3a%2f%2fs-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com%2f736x%2fb0%2f7c%2f6f%2fb07c6f25fb8cf439f211d8ca268197c2.jpg&exph=398&expw=196&q=loki+on+horseback&simid=608021261204590462&selectedIndex=12&mode=overlay)(Slightly happier than he's feeling at this point, but I couldn't resist Loki on horseback)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely happy with this chapter, particularly the Loki part of it. I may revisit it when I am less hopped up on cold medicine, but here it is for now.


	23. Blinded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kela fears what might come to find her, as she waits helpless in the cave. Will Loki be able to save her?

Kela's panic was increasing rapidly. She could not rest comfortably on her feet, and her body ached everywhere. It had been over a day since she had eaten anything, and she was beginning to feel faint. 

All alone in the cave, she couldn't see or call for help. There was no way to quantify the passage of time. When Kela felt the air stir against her skin, her panic level rose to an alarming height. Was someone here with her? She strained her ears but heard nothing. Still, she could not shake the feeling that she was being watched. 

Kela held her breath and tried to stay perfectly still. There! Just behind her and to her left she heard a slight noise, like a pebble being loosened. Her heart beat accelerated rapidly.

If Morin had returned, why was he staying silent? It was clear from her last conversation with him that his grasp on sanity was tenuous at best. He had swung back and forth from frothing anger to weeping despair. He had begun forcing his attentions on her until Sif stopped him. What if he returned, now that Sif was gone, to continue?

As if her thought had conjured action, she felt the whisper of a touch, as with the very tips of someone’s fingers, ghost down her left side. She flinched violently in her bonds away from the touch and heard a dark chuckle. 

“So lovely,” a low voice murmured. 

She jerked wildly, trying to free herself. Strong hands reached out to grab her hips and stay her. 

“Are you so anxious to get away from me love?” Asked the voice. He was doing it again. Trying to convince her he was Loki. She kicked out with her legs, attempting to injure him, but he danced out of the way. “So feisty, Princess. Do you not want to come with me?”

She shook her head violently, angry that she was unable to tell him just what she thought of his new attempt to mislead her. What did he hope to accomplish? Even if he were to momentarily gain her trust, the moment her eyes were freed she would see the truth. Unless he was strong enough to take on a completely different form? The thought chilled her. 

“Let’s see if we can give you back your speech, darling.” the voice said, and after a moment of odd vibration around her mouth, Kela felt the gag disappear. She swallowed twice and took a deep breath. 

“Don’t come near me!” She rasped, voice rough from being silenced. 

“Darling, I am trying to help you,” the voice told her reasonably. “Why are you resisting me?”

”You will not deceive me again!” She insisted. 

“I am not trying to deceive you, love, I am trying to rescue you from that creature.”

”I do not want to be rescued from him,” she insisted. “I love him!”

There was silence for a few moment, and she wondered if he had left again. 

“You love him?” the voice came out ragged and pregnant with pain. 

 “As I have said,” she ground out. “Do what you like with me, you will not turn me against him.”

She searched for stillness in herself, preparing for the end. 

***

For centuries Loki had nurtured the belief that he had no heart. Or, if one existed at all, that it was as frozen as his true form. He knew now he was wrong. Hearing Kela deny him and, worse, claim to love another, was all the proof he needed of his error, for if he really was as cold and heartless as he and everyone else assumed, he could not possibly hurt that intensely. 

The cave had been easy enough to find once he knew where to look. As he neared it he could feel the Seidr pulsing from it. Who ever had summoned it was obviously not an adept as he was. There was a crackling instability to the energy that thrummed wildly. If anything this made him more anxious. He of all his people knew how dangerous unpredictability could prove, and Kela was in there with it. 

He left his horse a bit up the stony beach and proceded carefully on foot. Although every thing in him urged him to rush forward and throw hself between his love and any danger, he knew caution was the best way to keep her safe. 

When he entered the mouth of the cave he saw clearly the source of the power he had sensed. There stood Kela, arms stretched above her head, blue mist securing her wrists, eyes, and mouth. Loki found himself both phenomenally angry and instantly hard at the same time. Ignoring his straining erection and the way her arched back thrust her breasts forward, Loki made a quick circuit of the cave, making sure no one else was there and no traps had been set. Once he was sure that all was clear, he allowed himself to relaxed. Now he let his eyes rake over Kela, standing as still as possible in her bonds. By all the stars, she was beautiful. 

Loki stepped closer to Kela and smiled, breathing in her sent. Reaching out his hand in a teasing motion, he ran his fingers as lightly as possible down her side, and laughed as she jerked away from him. Of course, he realized, she didn't realize that it was him.

"So lovely," he voiced his thoughts aloud, letting her hear his voice. The reaction was not what he had been expected. Even when he continued talking to her, attempting to calm her down, it only seemed to make matters worse. She kicked out at him and almost connected with his shin. This was getting ridiculous. Why was she resisting him? She was obviously in the cave against her will, or why would she be bound so ruthlessly?  Reaching up with his magic he gently probed the seidr binding her mouth. As expected, it was hardly a match for his own. With a disdainful flick of his wrist he dissolved it and watched her rediscover her voice. 

"Don't come near me!" she really was fighting against him. He did not understand, he was trying to rescue her! And then he heard her say it.

"I love him!" The words cut into his heart like a hot knife into warm butter. 

"You love him?" he could barely bring himself to repeat the words.

It could not be true. She could not be so fickle. It was only days ago when he had heard her say those words about him!

 “As I have said. Do what you like with me, you will not turn me against him.”

Loki sank to his knees, as though he had been dealt a physical blow. How was this happening? Had the man bewitched her in some way? In the back of his mind he remembered Thor asking the same thing when he had discovered Kela with Loki. He let out a small laugh of despair. 

"Well Morin?" she asked. "You said you would kill me if I did not leave Loki for you. Go ahead and do it."

His head shot up. Morin? She thought he was Morin? Could she not hear his voice?

"Kela," he said slowly, trying to speak as clearly as possible so that she could hear his voice "It's Loki."

"I didn't fall for that last time, and I will not fall for it now either!" she insisted. "You may not understand, no one may, but I love him."

"But Kela," he said, unable to resist, "you have refused his marriage proposal numerous times. You could understand why one might doubt your devotion."

"To prove a point," she snapped. "That he might not be so high handed going forward. Not because I don't love him. I have given up everything for Loki, and I regret none of it! Do you hear me Morin? Not one moment I spent with him. He has made me feel more alive in a matter of weeks than I have felt in my entire life until now. And if my love for him means that you take my life, then take it. I will not renounce him, I will never give him up, and I will go to my grave loving him!"

Loki stayed stock still for a moment, stunned by the passion and ferocity of Kela's words. Then, so quickly that his motions were a blur, he stood and grabbed her into his arms. Forgetting their surroundings, forgetting that she thought him someone else entirely, and forgetting that her abductor could return at any moment to wreak havoc, he crushed his lips to hers in a searing kiss. She struggled against desperately, but he was having none of it. His arms tightened around her, one hand gripping her ass, the other holding the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair, granting no quarter. His foot kicked her legs apart as he settled his own legs between hers, rocking his hips against hers. Finally he allowed her to pull her head back, but just enough so that he could tilt it to the side and suck her neck. 

"Loki!" she moaned.

"Recognize me at last love?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Unbind me!" she demanded as his mouth wandered downward.

"Hm?" he asked, pressing her breast out of its corset and up toward his waiting lips.

"Unbind me," she huffed again, before letting out whimper as his teeth nipped at her nipple. 

"But you are so delicious as you are," he opined, lifting up her leg and  wrapping it over his hip. Almost immediately she brought her other leg up and crossed her ankles behind his back. He thrust up and felt her center rubbing against him through the leather of his trousers. Damn the danger, he decided. The little lordling was not a real threat to him in any case, with his second rate magic and lack of physical prowess. He needed to be inside her more desperately than he could remember ever needing anything in his life. Reaching down with his power he undid the lacings of his pants and his cock sprang free as he pushed her underthings aside. With one smooth movement lowered her down onto him, impaling her until he was buried to the hilt. Their moans came out as one, and he began moving her up and down on his shaft. Her back arched farther and his mouth descended to lick, bite, and kiss at her chest and neck. 

"Gods, I love you," he groaned as her tight walls gripped around his cock, coating him with her slick juices. "Never, ever leave me, please, darling."

"Never!" she vowed. 

"I am yours," he growled, thrusting harder. "Norns, Kela, you have no idea how much I need you!"

"My love, take me!" she begged, rocking her hips to take him deeper inside of her. "I am yours!"

He curled one hand around and under her skirt to press at her clit and she came undone, her cries of his name echoing off the walls of the cave. Her convulsions around him were all it took to bring him to his own climax, and it was his turn to shout her name as he spurted into her, filling her with his seed. They clung together while they struggled to return their breathing to normal.

"I meant it, Kela," he told her, as his voice returned. "I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love anything or anyone. When I thought you had left me, it was like I had lost my own soul. Please do not think, ever, my darling, that I take you for granted."

"I love you to, my prince," she said, "but if you don't untie me, I will not be responsible for what I do to you."

"Of course, love," he laughed. 

"Well, I didn't want to interrupt you," a low voice spoke from behind him. "But I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

Loki spun to see Morin standing in the entry to the cave, leaning against the wall, a small smile playing around his mouth.

>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally over the plague that had me in bed and medicated for a few days. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!


	24. Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Kela have reunited! Will they make a clean getaway?

Kela let out a groan of frustration as Morin’s words echoed in the cave. She felt Loki’s arm around her tighten and his body turn towards the intruder  

“What makes you think,” Loki asked in a deadly soft hiss, “that you have any say in what I do? You, a weakling with only a child’s grasp of seidr? I will take my time with killing you. I want to enjoy it.”

”Kill me if you like,” Morin said with nonchalance, “but then who will save her?”

Kela heard a growl come out of Loki's  throat, and her hand reached out blindly to grab his wrist and hold him. 

“What do you mean, Morin,” she asked, worry in her voice. “Surely you know you are no match for Loki. Release me, surrender now, and your life may be spared.”

She could feel Loki turn sharply toward her. She knew he would have made no such promises. 

“Could someone at least unbind my eyes?” Kela asked in frustration. “This is unbearable.”

Loki flicked his wrist and the seidr holding her vanished with a crackle. Her bonds suddenly gone, Kela toppled gracelessly, but he caught her in his arms and held her craddled close to his chest. 

“Thank you, love,” she smiled up at him. “Now, Morin, explain yourself.”

”You are correct, of course,” Morin replied conversationally. “I cannot match him in strength of arms or sorcery. I wonder though, demon, how you plan to extract the poison from her veins?”

Kela’s blood turn cold. 

“Poison?” She breathed. 

“Mmhmm. Of the deadly variety, of course. It was woven in with power that stopped your voice. I would say you have about three hours to live. Maybe less, if you are not as strong as I hoped. Even now you should be feeling faint light headed.”

Loki looked down at Kela, and she swallowed and nodded quickly. 

“I thought it was just hunger,” she whispered. 

“I’m afraid not,” Morin sighed.

”Cure her,” Loki's  words sounded like they came from a beast or demon rather than a person. “Cure her, or there will be no end to your suffering.”

”There is no cure,” he had the audacity to sound regretful. Kela was sure that her presence in his arms was all that kept Loki from launching himself at Morin and ripping his throat out with his bare hands. “I can hold the effect off, but only for a short time. She will need regular infusions of the treatment.”

”Why?” Kela breathed. “Why have you done this to me?” 

“So you will come with me,” Morin said, as though the answer was obvious. “So you will turn your back on him and leave him alone and in anguish, never knowing if you live or die, if you have forgotten him. I want him to spend the rest of his days knowing that he lost you, and that he is the cause of all of your pain.”

”You speak of pain, dog?” Loki growled. “You do not know the meaning of pain. I will flay every inch of skin from your body.”

”Then you will be killing her yourself,” Morin replied with equanimity. “You do not have time to find the potion before she dies yourself. You do not even know what I have given her. And torture me as you like, I will not aid you.”

”Then I will die.” Kela replied matter of factly. She felt eerily calm.

“No!” the word sounded ripped from Loki’s very soul.

“I will not live to be his slave, my love,” she told him with a steely determination. “Nor will I help him to prolong your pain.”

”If you are gone, darling,” he said to her, “there is nothing left for me but pain.”

”I will not leave you,” she stubbornly. “Ever. Especially not to go with him.”

“Kela, don’t do this,” Morin’s eyes welled up with tears. “I don’t want to hurt you. You are merely enthralled to a devil, you yourself are not evil. I can love you. I can make you happy.”

”As long as he suffers,” she added  contemptuously. 

“Well, yes,” he agreed. 

“How then is it not you who is truly evil?” She demanded. “How are you any better than he is? Worse, as you commit your crime intentionally.”

”What crime?” Loki demanded, then shook his head. “No. I don’t care. You will fix this.”

Loki gently set Kela down then advanced on Morin, knives suddenly in either hand. Kela saw Morin draw a dagger from his own belt and hold it inexpertly. She raised a first to her mouth and bit down on it as her head began to swim. What in the nine did he expect to do against the deadly prince? Then a tiny smile lit Morin’s face and in the instant she knew the dagger was not meant for Loki. Seeing him reverse the blade, as Kela cried out a second too late, Morin drove it through his chest and into his heart. 

“I win,” he smiled, crumpling to the floor. “May your life be as miserable as mine has been these past eleven years.”

“No!!!” Loki screamed, grabbing him by the shirt and shaking his limp body. Kela heard panic in his voice. “Cure her! Come back and cure her!”

”He’s gone, my love,” Kela whispered. She stumbled to the chair and sat. It was getting harder and harder to stay upright. 

“Kela!” Loki stumbled over to her, sinking to his knees and burying his head in her lap. “It is noy true. I will not loose you!”

”I’m afraid you may, love,” she she said quietly, her strength seeping out of her. 

“Heimdall!” He yelled, “bring us back!”

Kela saw a bright, multicolored light surround them, but weather it was the bifrost or death she did not know, as consciousness left her. 

***

 

Loki ran full out into the palace, Kela cradled in his arms. 

"Find the Queen and bring her to the healing quarters," he shouted at a guard loitering in the entryway. 

"My lord?" the man asked, snapping upright in surprise.

"NOW!" Loki screamed. 

He could feel the sands running through the hour glass as he sprinted down the hallway. She had to be alright. She just  _had to_. He would get her to the healers, and they would figure out a solution. If they couldn't, then surely his mother would. Kela would not die. He would not allow it.

Bursting into the healer's quarters, he watched everyone leap to their feet. Ingrid, the head healer, came over to him and raised an eyebrow in question.

"The Lady Kela," he barked, "she has been poisoned. Cure her."

The buzzing on in the room increased. Ingrid stepped closer and looked at the unconscious woman in his arms. Her air of brisk professionalism made him feel infinitesimally better.

"What poison?" she asked in clipped tones.

"I don't know. It was taken in with seidr, a gag around her mouth. The scum who did it said there was no cure, but that it could be managed, if given regular treatment."

"Where is this scum?" she asked, eyes hard.

"Dead," he said with satisfaction.

"That was stupid," she admonished. "He could have given us information. Your majesty."

"I didn't kill him," he rasped. "He turned his blade on himself. Believe me, I would have made him suffer more than death."

"Set her down, let me look at her."

He paced back and forth, wanting to explode. He dearly wished there was someone to kill at the moment. The longing for violence was intense. When Frigga strode in, he crossed to her and practically fell into her arms, dropping his head onto her shoulder and letting a sob escape from his chest.

"Loki," she said, lifting his face to look into his eyes, "what happened?"

"It's Kela," he answered, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Morin," he spat the name out, "abducted her. Poisoned her."

"What? Why?" she looked as though he had struck her.

"How should I know? He was insane. Said he wanted to make me pay, Norns know for what. Wanted to take her from me. He said he could keep her alive, but she needed to stay with him. Kela refused, said she wouldn't leave me, and he stabbed himself in the heart."

"Oh, stars in heaven!" she gasped. "Loki, I am so sorry! This is all my fault."

"He wouldn't tell us what he used on her. Just said that she had three hours. Three hours!"

"Loki," she stroked his hair as he lowered his head back to her shoulder for a moment.

"Can you fix her?" he asked, desperation in his voice. "Please mother. Please help her."

"I will see what I can do," she promised.

For the next two hours Frigga and Ingrid fussed and fretted over Kela, conducting various tests and bringing in others to consult. Loki sat next to her bed holding her hand when he could, paced back and forth like a caged tiger when they shooed him from the bed to examine her. Nothing seemed to be working. He was starting to know true despair.

At last Frigga came out to where he sat in the adjoining room. He looked up at her hopefully, and felt the hope die as he saw the expression on her face. She shook her head and everything inside him went numb.

"I am so sorry, Loki," she told him, taking his hand and sitting across from him. "We did everything we could. What ever he gave her, it's draining her soul energy."

"Then there's nothing," he heard his voice break, "nothing you can do?"

"We're just not strong enough, not without knowing what is attacking her. Maybe if your father was awake... but as things stand now, I'm afraid she'll be gone soon. You should say goodbye."

"No!" he snapped. "I will not say goodbye."

Lunging to his feet, he crossed to Kela's bed and scooped her into his arms. The one hope, the only hope that remained to him now, pounded in his ears. Ignoring Frigga's shouted questions he carried his love out of the room and down a warren of halls. Pushing past the four guards standing sentry, he brought her into stately chamber and laid her down on the edge of Odin's giant bed.

"Odin," he choked out, then began again, "Father. I need your help. She is poisoned. Mother and Ingrid say beyond hope. But what is beyond the strength of Odin All Father? You can save her. You must save her. For me. Please. Please wake up. If you really do love me as you say, if you even ever cared for me at all, please wake up and save her. Take the crown. Take my life. Just save Kela. Please father. Please save her."

Breaking down into hopeless sobs he collapsed over her onto the bed, tears falling onto her lifeless body. He was not going to survive this. He did not want to survive it.

A large hand reached out and patted his head. Looking up with a flare of hope, he saw the big hand reach over and take Kela's tiny one in a gentle clasp. A red light surrounded her, and Loki saw her breath begin to gain strength. 

"My son," a deep, raspy voice said, "welcome home."

 

Song suggestion from Tom to go with the chapter


	25. Reckonings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin is awake, and very interested in this new addition to his family circle. What will his reaction be to the girl who has caused such upheaval in the royal family of Asgard?
> 
> A rather fluffy chapter for you.

It appeared that she was not dead. That was encouraging, Kela supposed. The fact that this was the third time in under a month that she had found herself resurfacing after being violently rendered unconscious was rather less so. While she had definitely enjoyed certain aspects of her association with the Asgardian royal family, this was not one of her favorites. 

She groaned and opened her eyes, ignoring the feeling of being dragged over rough terrain by wild horses. Yes, she was definitely not dead. That would surely not hurt as much. 

A face was staring down at her from a chair next to the bed. It was a man’s face, though not the one she most wished to see. She had the distinct feeling she should really know who this was, but her mind was still operating in a bit of a fog. 

“So,” he said in crisp, comanding tones, “you are the girl who has thrown my family into chaos and upheaval. One son driven from home, the other returned to it. You have been busy.”

As his head turned to look her in the eye, Kela realized that he had only one, and she knew who, however improbably, this must be.

“Allfather,” she said, struggling in sudden panic as she scrambled to get up to bow. 

“Stay down,” he comanded, “I did not heal you just to see you do yourself further injury immediately upon waking.”

”You healed me?” She knew she sounded dim and cursed her slow moving brain. “Thank you, your majesty.”

”I had little choice,” he shrugged, “what with the fuss Loki was making. What power is it you have in you, girl, to drive my sons into such wild starts?”

Loki, she thought. Where was he? Had Odin accepted Thor’s reversal of his exile, or did her love even now languish in chains somewhere, or even worse? She knew his last interactions with his father had been strained, to say the least. She thought of the tales she had heard of Loki’s confrontations with Odin, of the horrible lies he had been fed his entire life, and rightious indignation rose in her breast on his account.

For a brief minute moment she actually considered lashing out at Odin, before reality set back in. Not only had he just saved her from certain death, he was the king and absolute ruler. To attack him, however justifiably, would be madness. 

“I have no power, my lord,” she mumbled. 

“And yet Thor is forced away in shame by your doing,” he held her skewered with his eye. “Had my intended behaved in such a way, on the eve of our nuptials no less, she would have been sent to the block for such blatant high treason.”

Kela blanched as a wave of nausea swept over her. 

“However,” Odin conceded, “knowing my younger son as I do, I am persuaded that the more... salacious aspects of the incident were his doing and not yours.”

”Perhaps,” she conceded, “but I as things sorted I would not change the events. I love him and regret nothing that led to our being together. I would rather be with him in chains than without him on a throne." 

"And yet you refused to marry him."

"Just because I do not regret how things turned out does not mean that I approved of Loki's methods," she clarified. "He needed to be shown that he could not treat people in such a fashion without suffering the consequences."

"Hm," Odin regarded her for a moment. "It appears, my dear," he said, turning to face the far side of the room, "that you are correct."

"I usually am," agreed a musical voice. Kela looked over and saw Frigga step out of the shadows.

"Indeed," Odin smiled. "Go bring in our son. The young woman might be the making of him yet."

***

Loki paced back and forth in the waiting area of the healers' chambers. He had been by her side for most of the last three days as she slept. Occasionally someone would bring him in food or drink, and he partook mechanically after Ingrid had enlisted Frigga to pester him.

He spoke to her continually, spinning tales of the type he had told her on their travels together. He had summoned books from his chambers and read to her the poetry and plays that she loved. He simply talked to her, sharing all of his hopes and plans for the future. It was stunning how in such a short time she had become the center of all of them.

Odin had pulled the poison out of her. Loki had watched as the sickly blue light was drained from her pores. In that moment he had longed to resurrect the villain Morin, so that he might have the privilege of killing him again himself. His death had been far too swift and painless. 

Once the poison was removed, Kela began to breath steadily again, and the pallor seemed to leave her cheeks. Frigga and Ingrid were in the chamber by that point, and as his parents embraced the healer informed Loki that, against all odds, it seemed that Kela would live. He carried her back to the infirmary, leaving Odin and Frigga to their reunion.

He had been with her ever since, as the healers bustled in and out to check on her, until that morning when Odin had arrived, and brusquely demanded that his son leave the room. It seemed that Ingrid was predicting her rousing and the All Father had decided that he, rather than Loki, would be the first one she saw upon waking. He had wanted to protest, but an urgent look from his mother had silenced his words. With one last longing look at Kela's face, he had left the chamber to sit, head in hands, outside.

The voices had begun shortly there after. He could tell they were speaking, but a spell kept him from discerning the words. It took all his will power to keep from crashing in the door. Three days without hearing her voice, after almost loosing her forever, had wreaked havoc on nerves that were not the calmest on the best of occasions. His only consolation was that Frigga, who he knew cared for the girl, was in there as well.

As if conjured by his thought, the door opened and his mother slipped out. He rushed to her side, eyes asking the question he dare not voice.

"She is awake," Frigga told him, "and she is alright. Your father has succeeded in drawing all of the poison from her veins. There will be no lasting effects."

He hugged his mother fiercely in relief and gratitude.

"May I see her?" 

"Indeed, your father sent me to fetch you. I admire your restraint for not bowling me over and charging in all ready."

"It was a near thing," he confessed.

Oddly, now that he knew she was awake and safe, and that he was called for, Loki was suddenly shy of going in. For one thing, Odin was in there, and even before the truth of his parentage had come to light, Loki had never been completely at ease in his adopted father's company. Now that he had thrown himself at Odin's mercy to beg for Kela's life, his awkwardness had increased tenfold. He did not regret his actions - the outcome spoke for itself - but he was embarrassed at the show of raw emotion he had unleashed. For another, Loki's vigil by Kela's bedside had given him time to obsess over all of the ways he had abused her trust. True, now that he wasn't worried about her imminent demise he felt less of an urge to repent and change his ways, but he still felt unusual, odd twinges of guilt for some of his recent actions. It was neither an accustomed nor a welcome feeling. He devoutly hoped that this newfound morality would leave as quickly as it had arrived. He was fairly certain it would.

Taking a deep breath, Loki entered the sick room. Kela sat propped up against a pillow, a blanket tucked around her waist. She was turned away from the door as he came in, and on the other side of the bed was Odin. The two of them seemed to be in the midst of a fascinating conversation. Odin held Kela's had between his two large ones, a wide smile lighting his stern face. When he saw his son enter, he looked down at Kela and chuckled.

"A self inflicted knife wound to the hip?" Odin asked him, shaking his head in mock despair as Kela giggled. "Really, Loki, have you no shame?"

It took a moment for Loki to realize that Odin was referencing the first night he had rescued her. She must have been regaling the All Father with the story of their meeting. 

"Very little," he admitted, crossing to the bed in one long stride and kneeling beside it to take Kela's other hand in his. He brought it to his lips and kissed her palm, before pressing the back of it to his cheek. "You knew, my love? That the wound was of my own making?"

"Not right away, perhaps," she confessed, "I was rather overwhelmed that first night. But it did not take long to suss out the truth. Especially once I discovered your true identity. It was one of many pieces that fell rapidly into place once I knew I was dealing with the infamous God of Mischief."

"She is too clever for you, my son," Odin smiled down at her, "you do not deserve her."

"No, I do not," he agreed. "But I have no intention of letting that stop me from having her."

"He has saved my life on multiple occasions, your majesty," Kela demurred, "I think he is every bit worthy of me, and more."

"Every woman has a blind spot," Odin shrugged, then looked up to where Frigga stood at the door and Loki could have sworn he heard him mutter, "thank the Norns."

"So do I understand then that I am not for the axe?" Loki asked cheekily.

"Your life will be spared," Odin sighed. "I could not stand against the combined might of your mother and your princess."

"My princess?" he asked, looking at Kela with raised eyebrows.

"If you will still have me?" she asked, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth.

"Oh, he'll have you alright," Odin decreed. "It is a condition of his parole."

Loki barely heard him as he dove forward and claimed Kela's mouth with his own.

"Gently," Frigga chided kindly. "She is still in her sick bed."

"I do not mind," Kela assured her breathlessly as Loki finally let her up for air. "Indeed I think it is the best medicine I could ask for."

"Come, my queen," Odin smiled, rising from his seat. "Let us leave the young lovers alone. But I warn you, Loki, if you set back this remarkable young woman's recover in any way, you shall answer for it to me. I did not bring her back from the brink to see you undo all of my work."

"Yes father," he said, and only after Odin and Frigga left the room did he realize what he called the man who raised him. Pushing that uncomfortable thought to the side, he busied himself with the delightful task of making a very thorough, albeit gentle, confirmation that every part of Kela had, indeed, been restored.


	26. Wedding Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Kela's wedding day arrives. It's all been leading to this!

It seemed a swarm of butterflies had taken up residence in Kela’s stomach and would not be still. Her anxiety as she waited to enter the throne room had little to do with the ceremony, and still less to do with the resulting marriage. It was all due to her damnable dress. Or, more to the point, lack there of. 

The dress had been just one topic, though the most intense, of squabbles between her and her mercurial intended over the last few weeks. Languishing under an order of abstinence imposed upon them out of concern for Kela’s recovery, Kela and Loki had been restricted to nothing more than ardent embraces, and always under the watchful eye of an attendant from the healers’ quarters to keep them from getting carried away. Loki, in a dark humor one afternoon, had suggested that there was truly nothing wrong with her any more, and that the enforced chastity was in fact Odin’s horrid punishment for all if his past sins. Kela did not rule out the possibility that he was right, but she had tired very easily in those first days. Nevertheless, the frustration had made them both quarrelsome. 

Their bickering had finally settled around what she would wear for the wedding. Kela had assumed, as any sane person would, that the palace seemstresses would make her a dress for the ocassion. Loki had other ideas. Of course he did.

And so here she stood, about to marry him before all of the assembled nobility of Asgard, and the only real fabric on her body was the corset and short skirt she had purchased before their first assignation. 

He had, of course, also covered her in the illusion of a sumptuous satin gown, but she knew that it was not real. He had made it so the two of them could both see quite clearly the black corset with green and gold trim, and ridiculously short skirt. He had insisted that she not wear panties.

“You can’t really expect me to wed you like that!” She had exploded. 

“But darling,” he’d purred, looking at her with melting green eyes, “it is what you wore when you first agreed to be mine. I want to see you in it again as you officially vow your obedience to me.”

”I will NOT be vowing -“ she stopped herself, refusing to let him bate her off of the subject. 

“Please love,” he wheedled, deploying both his eyes and voice, two of the deadliest weapons in his arsenal,to devastating effect. She was undone.

The fact that she had so easily given in to him filled her with a kind of dread for their future together. He could so easily talk her into things these days. She had managed to eke out one victory, though. Since her recovery, Loki seemed to make it his life's purpose to cover her in love bites. Her arms, breasts, neck, shoulders... basically anyplace where he could find bare skin were covered in the marks he left on her. The first time she caught her reflection in her mirror after finally being allowed to return to her own rooms, Kela had stared in horror at her reflection. She looked like a bad apple. Loki loved them, though.  She would catch him tracing a trail between them with his finger, eyes lit with a manic glee before adding to them, before muttering "mine" under his breath. He would not conceal them for her, no matter how much she pleaded with him. So in exchange for her agreeing to wearing the ridiculous confection, Loki had reluctantly, and with rather bad grace, extended his illusion to include ridding her pale skin of the red and purple bruises that covered it. Small victories, she decided, were still worth something.

From the hall inside Kela heard the music begin, and she glanced down one last time to make sure that the illusion of her dress was still there. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the wide double doors of the throne room and stepped inside to meet her fate.

***

Loki spun Kela around the dance floor, a wide smile on his face. It was done. The beautiful blond woman grinning up at him was his wife, had promised him her fidelity, though emphatically not her obedience, for the rest of their lives. All in all it was rather awe inspiring.

The ceremony had gone smoothly. If for one flicker of a moment as she spoke her vows in a ringing, bell like tone it had appeared to some of the sharper eyed guests that the bride had stood on the dais dressed only in her underthings, well, they would never be able to prove that they had seen any such thing. The flinty look that passed over his bride's eyes had told him very clearly that she knew all to well what he had done, but as he stared impishly back at her the scowl turned into a giggle as she rolled her eyes at him. Truly, he had found the perfect woman for himself.

"You have a dangerous look on you face," she broke into his thoughts. "What are you thinking, husband."

The word sent fire through his veins. 

"Children," he said, plucking the idea out of thin air. "I think we should have some. Soon."

"Children, plural?" she hedged, looking at him with a hint of trepidation.

"Ten at least," he nodded, loving the panicked look that overcame her.

"One," she countered instantly.

"Twelve," he replied, completely breaking the rhythm of negotiation.

"Very well, my lord," she agreed, far too easily. She smiled fatuously up at him and batted her eyes. "I will agree to twelve children - "

"Excellent!"

" _If_ ," she added, "you agree to give birth to at least half of them."

"Done!" he agreed, and threw back his head to laugh as her eyes grew wide as saucers. 

The song came to an end and he led her up the steps to the throne. Perching on it he brought her down to sit on his lap. Odin and Frigga had left over an hour before or he would not have dared. Since Odin had woken from his sleep, the two of them had taken to retiring early. Loki did not like to think of the implications of that, but Kela loved teasing him with it. He could not wait to follow their example and whisk his new wife off the their chambers - what a marvelous thought,  _their chambers_ \- and finally have her to himself. The last month had been excruciating, and he firmly believed that if he didn't claim her soon he would explode. It didn't help that sitting here now he was forcibly reminded of the night she had song to him. Looking at her down at her and observing the blush staining her cheeks, he assumed she was remembering the same thing.

"Impure thoughts, darling?" he asked hopefully.

"Mm," she agreed.

"Care to share?"

"Do you remember the last time we sat here like this?" she asked.

"Oh, very vividly," he grinned at her lecherously.

"You offered to help me recreate some of my dreams," she reminded him. "Well, it just so happens that one of them took place right here, on this very throne, after a wedding celebration."

Pulling his face down to hers, Kela kissed him long and deep, hands buried in his hair. When she finally let him up, he took a deep, shaky breath and looked at the nobles milling about the room.

"Everybody out!" he shouted, as they turned to look at him in amazement. "NOW!"

For a moment it was as though the entire room had been frozen as they stared in disbelief at the couple cuddled up together on the throne.

"Or stay for all I care," Loki added, pulling Kela closer to his chest and vanishing the illusion of her dress as she shrieked in protest, "just don't complain about what you witness."

As one the wedding guests turned and rushed for the door. Kela, who Loki suspected of having thankfully drank more champagne than she really ought to have, giggled some more and hid her face in his neck. He did not even wait until the door was closed behind the last guest before standing with her in his arms, turning, and setting her down on the throne.

"Loki!" she squeaked, "what are you doing?"

"Hush, my princess," he told her, "it is time for me to pleasure you."

Dropping to his knees in front of her, Loki lifted Kela's legs and placed a knee over each arm of the throne, spreading her open. He could smell the intoxicating scent of her arousal as he leaned in and it drove him wild. Moving forward, he traced a long line over her entrance with his tongue, feeling her shudder beneath him. It was all the encouragement he needed to begin an onslaught of her core, licking, sucking, and biting at her most intimate places. Kela made no effort to hide her moans and cries as he brought her to the edge with his mouth before sliding two fingers inside of her. The experience of his name echoing off the walls of the throne room as she came was heaven to him.

Rising from his knees he looked down at his quivering bride and smiled predatorily. She was so wonderfully flushed and glassy eyed.

"Can you stand, love?" he asked, and chuckled as she shakily rose to her feet. He waved his hand and stood naked before her. Sitting down on the throne he pulled her back down onto his lap, straddling him. He was instantly glad that he had forbidden her panties for the day as she slid down onto him uninhibited. A loud moan escaped him as he felt her walls clamp around him all wet and tight and welcoming. It had been far too long. This was where he belonged, he knew. It was his last coherent thought for some time, as he lost himself in the pleasure of her body. 

Hours later, as they finally lay together in their large bed, sweaty and spent, he smiled down at her. This small, lovely, brilliant woman who had brought joy into his life, possibly for the first time. She was his, and would be so for as long as they lived. 

"Love," he smiled, brushing her damp hair from her face. "What do you say to an adventure?"

"Hmm..." she pretended to think about it. "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know," he answered, warming to the idea. "Something fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and bearing with me! I enjoyed writing the characters, creating Kela from my idea of the heroine I'd want to see/be and trying to find and stay true to Loki's voice. I had never realized writing fanfic could be so much fun!


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